All the Roads That Lead to You Are Winding
by TakeItTo22
Summary: Sarah Walker and John Casey are sent to Burbank to investigate a man, calling himself Osiris, who has been stealing intel from the CIA and the NSA. While there, Sarah runs into her old, childhood best friend, Chuck Bartowski. AU better description inside.
1. Prologue Pt 1

**A/N:** This idea popped into my head while I was at home sick over the last week, and watching movies like, _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Dark Knight, _and _Kick-Ass_. Basically, this story is an AU (duh) where Chuck and Sarah were friends since they were toddlers. But due to unforeseeable circumstances, they were split apart. In this story, the CIA/NSA still share secrets with each other, but they never built an Intersect. That means that Chuck was never recruited by the CIA or kicked out of Stanford. But Sarah was recruited before she graduated high school.

A few months before this story's main timeline, a masked man who calls himself "Osiris" broke into a bunch of CIA, NSA, Fulcrum, and Ring facilities and stole a lot of important intel. Director Graham and General Beckman send their best agents (Sarah and Casey) to Burbank to investigate and capture/kill Osiris, as they believe that Osiris will strike Fulcrum's headquarters in LA.

While there, Sarah runs into her old friend Chuck, and…well…you know…the sparks fly?

Did you know that Liquid Armor is real? Google it sometime.

Another thing I should tell you is that this chapter is extremely long. It's over 12,200 words. I was going to split it, but I decided against it. I hope this doesn't scare you away.

As usual, reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Chuck! Or the lyrics to 'Wonderwall' for that matter. Or Forbes…

* * *

**Washington DC**

**September 29, 2007 **

Sarah Walker stood in line at the local grocery store, waiting for the elderly man in front of her to finish counting his damn quarters and pay for his groceries. She impatiently brushed a strand of blonde hair away from her bright blue eyes. From the corner of her eye, on the magazine rack, she saw _him_. Sarah grabbed a copy of _Forbes_, and stared at the cover. A handsome man with the richest brown eyes that Sarah had ever seen grinned shyly up at her from the magazine cover. But his hair was shorter than she'd ever seen in…she really used to like the wavy curls. In a large, white font, the cover of the magazine read:

**Charles Bartowski—Inside the Head of the CEO of Legend Enterprises**

"Oh, he sure is handsome," an elderly woman's voice called from behind Sarah.

Sarah smiled down at the cover. "Yeah," she said, "He really is…"

Sarah tossed the magazine onto the counter, and paid for it and her groceries. She walked out to the parking lot. When she got to her black Porsche 911 Turbo, Sarah began to unload the grocery bags into the back. Her phone began to ring.

"Walker, secure," she answered.

"_Graham, secure,_" the CIA director's deep voice replied, "_Agent Walker, report to my office in an hour's time. We have some things to discuss._"

"Yes, sir," replied Sarah, flipping her phone down. As she stepped into her car, she saw the magazine lying on the passenger seat; Chuck's face grinning timidly up at her. "It's good to see you again, Chuck," she said to no one in particular as she drove out of the parking lot.

* * *

**Encino, CA**

**December, 1983 (Age Three)**

A woman with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and a kind face chuckled as she bounced her curly brown haired toddler on her lap. The child cheered gleefully, as if he was having the time of his life. After a few moments, the boy's eyes were locked on the sandbox, a few yards away.

"Momma, sandbox!" the boy cried, his chubby hands outstretched toward the sandbox. "I wanna play sandbox!"

"What's the magic word, Charles?" Mary smiled, and stood Chuck up on her lap.

"_Pwease?_" Chuck pleaded, his big brown eyes sparkling.

"Alright," said the mother, placing him down on the pavement. She dug through her knack sack and brandished out a shovel and pail. "Play nice with the other kids, okay?"

"Okay!" Chuck cried happily. Taking the shovel and pail from his mother's hand, Chuck ran over to the large sandbox as fast as his chubby little legs could carry him. Mary, chuckling to herself, settled back into the wooden park bench, and took in her surroundings.

She pulled out a copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_, aka, her mission debriefing disguised as a novel. As Mary opened the cover, a blonde woman took a seat at the other end of the bench, placing her daughter on her lap. The little girl appeared to be around Chuck's age, and Mary had to admit, she was adorable. The girl had bright blue eyes, and short blonde hair that was pulled into pigtails.

"Sit still, Sarah!" the woman giggled, pulling the girl's jacket off. Sarah bounced excitedly in her mother's lap, squealing in joy.

"Sandbox! Sandbox! Sandbox!" Sarah cried rapidly. Sarah's mother was finally successful in pulling off the girl's jacket. Mary smiled to herself as she saw that the little toddler's blue dress brought out her bright blue eyes. She always wanted to have a child with blue eyes…not that there was anything wrong with Chuck's or Ellie's eyes—both were rich and warm—but there was something about blue eyes…

"Okay, kiddo! Off you go!"

The little girl quickly jumped off her mother's lap. Mary caught herself lunging forward, motherly (and spy training) instinct, ready to catch the child in case she fell. However, Sarah landed as gracefully as she could for being only about three years old, and ran over to the sandbox. Mary watched as Sarah, halfway to the sandbox, turned and ran back to her mother.

"Mommy! I fo-got…I fo-got…" the girl stuttered, bouncing in excitement. "I fo-got my ball!"

"Oh, that was Mommy's fault," said the child's mother, handing her daughter a red ball. "There you go, darlin'!"

"Tanks!" cried Sarah, running back over to the sandbox. Mary watched as Sarah plopped down next to Chuck (who had a deep look of concentration on his face as he scooped sand into his pail) and asked him, "Whatchu doin'?"

"Your daughter sure is a firecracker," Mary commented to the woman sitting next to her. The woman laughed.

"Tell me about it!" she exclaimed, giggling, "I brought her here with hopes that she'd want to play on the playground equipment so she'd release some of her energy, but she wanted to play in the sandbox! I'll never be able to get her to take a nap when we get home…"

"Oh, my daughter was the same way when she was her age," Mary smiled, nodding over at Sarah.

"Is that your daughter over by the swings?" asked the woman, pointing to a girl standing by the swing set.

"Oh, no…" Mary chuckled. "My daughter's with my husband at the moment…I believe they're at the zoo. I'm here with my son, Chuck." Mary pointed at the boy sitting next to Sarah. It was clear that Chuck was too busy with his shovel and pail to pay attention to the blonde girl who was trying to talk to him.

"Oh! He is just adorable!"

"Thank you! Your daughter is adorable as well," said Mary, smiling politely. "She's going to a heartbreaker, that one…"

The blonde woman gave a playful scoffed, and waved off Mary's comment. Mary held her hand out.

"Mary Bartowski," she introduced.

"Dana Walker," said the blonde woman, shaking Mary's hand. "And that little piston over there is Sarah."

"What a pretty name. As for the quiet, shy boy, his name is Chuck," said Mary, looking over at Chuck who was dumping sand out of his pail and giggling. Sarah was still seated next to Chuck, watching him with a curious expression. Mary scrunched her eyebrows. "He's usually very good at sharing…" she muttered to Dana. "Chuck?"

The boy looked up at his mother, his shovel in mid-dig. Excitedly, Chuck waved to his mother, sending sand all over.

"Share your toys with Sarah, sweetie! Mary called, gesturing her hands toward Sarah. Chuck looked down sadly at his shovel, and then to Sarah.

"He doesn't have to do that…" Dana mumbled.

"It's fine," said Mary, laughing as Chuck reluctantly handed Sarah his shovel. Sarah smiled happily, and held up her ball.

"You want ball?" she asked. Chuck stared at the ball. It was as if he were contemplating whether a ball is worth the price of a plastic shovel. A few seconds later, Chuck gave the blonde toddler a grin.

"Okay!" he cried, his hands outstretched. Sarah giggled shrilly as she held the ball over her head.

"Ah you weddy?" she asked, her tiny arms shaking. Chuck nodded enthusiastically, and that's when Sarah flung the ball as hard as she could. Mary winced as she saw the ball bouncing off Chuck's face. The boy looked momentarily stunned, and then his bottom lip began to quiver. Less than a second after the quiver, Chuck began to wail loudly. At the sound of his wails, Sarah gave him a frightened, yet apologetic look, and crawled over to him, placing a hand on his face.

"No!" Chuck cried, trying to back away. He fell onto his back, and continued crying.

The two women quickly got up off the bench, and ran over to their children. However, before they were able to do or say anything, little Sarah crawled over to Chuck, and leaned her face down. She gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"A kiss make evewyting betta!" she declared happily. Once again, Chuck looked stunned. Mary had come to the conclusion that Chuck was okay, and that he was just surprised by the ball hitting his head. Chuck was quick to prove her wrong. This time, he sobbed even harder.

Sarah looked down sadly and confusedly at him, and soon, her lips began to quiver as well. "But kiss uh-posed to make you feel betta!" she pouted, and she too began to cry.

Mary and Dana turned to each other, both their faces red. Once they made eye contact, the two women burst out laughing.

Since their fateful meeting at the playground sandbox, Chuck and Sarah had been nearly inseparable. Because Mary Bartowski went on about five business trips a year, and Stephen Bartowski was always busy with work, Dana Walker would always invite Chuck and his older sister Ellie over to her house. The three children got along perfectly, but as Ellie was four years older than Chuck and Sarah, she usually spent her time at the Walker residence alone doing her homework or learning how to bake with Mrs. Walker. It worked out quite nicely since the Bartowski's and the Walker's only lived a block from each other.

As the years went on, Chuck and Sarah began to become interested in different things. Chuck, for example, had grown quite fond of comic books and Nintendo. Whereas Sarah became interested in playing soccer for the local parks and recreation team. But despite their different interests, the two of them would always spend time together, usually after Sarah's soccer practice. Whenever Sarah's team played a game, Chuck would always be there, and he would cheer louder than even Mr. and Mrs. Walker whenever Sarah scored a goal. Sarah, who everyone knew hated any form of videogame, would even go over to the Bartowski's to cheer on Chuck whenever he played _Legend of Zelda_.

When the children entered the third grade, Chuck would help Sarah with her multiplication table while Sarah would help Chuck with his cursive. After their homework, Chuck and Sarah would watch the afternoon cartoons, or they would try to sneak some treats before dinner. On weekends, they would watch a VHS copy of _The Goonies_ so many times that the tape began to wear.

Chuck and Sarah were inseparable.

**

* * *

**

**CIA Headquarters**

**September 29, 2007**

"Good afternoon, Agent Walker," Graham's assistant, Cheryl, greeted, "Director Graham is in a meeting at the moment. Please take a seat, and he'll be with you shortly." Cheryl gestured over to a row of chairs.

"Thank you, Cheryl," said Sarah. When she turned to the chairs, she saw a stern faced man frowning at her. She smiled sweetly. "Hey, Casey…it's been awhile."

Major John Casey, NSA agent, grunted. "Your whore partner isn't coming in today, is she?"

"Who? Carina?" Sarah laughed, and took a seat next to her old friend. "Nope. She's off on a solo mission."

"Thank God…"

"Still sore over Prague, eh?"

Casey growled. "I don't know what you're talking about, Walker."

Sarah chuckled, and rolled her eyes. "So," she said, leaning back in her chair to cross one of her legs over the other. "Looks like we're going to be working together again."

"It looks that way," said Casey, nodding to Graham's. "Beckman's in there right now. Whatever's going on, it must be big."

"Agent Walker? Major Casey?" Cheryl called over to them, holding a telephone receiver. "Director Graham and General Beckman are ready to see you now. You can just go in."

"Thanks," said the two agents, as they walked into Graham's office.

"Hello, agents Walker and Casey," said Graham. "Have a seat."

Sarah nodded to the middle aged, African-American man who had recruited her into the CIA just before she had graduated high school. Graham had also had her father arrested, but Sarah didn't hold a grudge. After all, the man saved her father's life. Next to Graham, a stern faced, red-headed woman nodded to Sarah. Diane Beckman…although she stood at five foot nothing, she still gave Sarah the creeps. Sarah never really knew why, though…

"I take it that we're on another CIA/NSA joint mission?" asked Casey, taking a seat next to Sarah.

"Correct, Major," said Beckman. Graham handed both Sarah and Casey folders.

"The two of you are going to LA to look for that man." Graham gestured to the folders in the two agents' hands. Sarah opened up her folder, and stifled a laugh when she saw the picture of the man. He had on a black balaclava, and over it, he had a black phantom mask. To top it off, he also wore a grey fedora and a long, high collared raincoat. Underneath the coat, he seemed to be wearing a finely tailored suit as well.

"At least this psycho's fashionable," Casey muttered, chuckling.

"Seriously?" asked Sarah. "We're going after a vigilante, superhero wannabe?"

She turned to Casey and they both shared a laugh.

"Can't the local authorities take care of this clown?" asked Casey, wiping a tear from his eye.

"That would be the case if this were a normal situation," replied Beckman. The general turned the computer monitor so that Sarah and Casey could see. "The man calls himself Osiris. This was taken last night at the CIA/NSA compound."

Sarah turned to the screen to watch the surveillance video. At first she saw nothing except for a group of guards, fifteen men—maybe more, standing at their posts. And then she saw Osiris dropping from the ceiling, landing gracefully into a roll. In an instant, Osiris took out about five guards with blindingly fast kicks and punches. He then held his arms out and front of him, and out of the sleeves of his coat, two tranque pistols sprang out, and he quickly shot the rest of the guards. The video then faded to black.

Sarah exchanged a glance with Casey. _That guy is good_…she thought to herself.

"He's been breaking into CIA and NSA facilities for the past six months," said Graham. "No one's been able to catch him. Luckily, as you were able to see, he doesn't kill any of the agents."

"We've been told that he may be wearing liquid armor," continued Beckman. "For years, military scientists have been working on lightweight body armor for soldiers. So far, the liquid armor that they've developed was only able to stop knives. However, if you watch this video, you can see that Osiris's armor is able to stop bullets."

Sarah turned back to the monitor, and watched Osiris getting shot in the leg. He fell forward, but he quickly recovered, and delivered a roundhouse kick to the shooter. There was no blood on the ground.

_Okay, apparently, this guy is also a genius_…_or maybe a robot._

"When he broke into the compound last night," said Graham, "He was able to hack into the network. He broke past the firewalls, and he was successful in stealing all of the data in less than five minutes. We never thought it could be possible…"

"So what makes you think that Osiris is in LA?" asked Sarah.

"Because we've had reports that Fulcrum and the Ring have had break-ins at their facilities as well," replied Beckman. "Apparently, Osiris has also been stealing their intel. We believe that Fulcrum's headquarters is located in LA." As Sarah opened her mouth to comment, Beckman held up a hand to silence her. "I know what you're thinking. Osiris is Fulcrum and the Ring's problem now. But the truth is, this man needs to be stopped. And as you two are the best agents in our companies, we want you two to take care of him."

"Osiris may be selling these secrets to terrorist groups, but to be honest, we don't know what he's doing with all of that data," said Graham. "But, as you both can see, this man is dangerous, and we need him captured. Dead or alive."

"Understood, sir," said Sarah and Casey.

"We set up two penthouses for you two," said Beckman, "There's also a CIA base posing as an electronic security company. The two of you will work from there. Agent Walker, your cover is that of the office manager, and Major Casey—"

"Let me guess," Casey grunted. "Head of security?"

"You are correct," Beckman said with a hint of a smile. Graham handed them each another folder.

"Your flight and mission dossiers," he said. "Your flight leaves in two hours. Take what you need. We'll send you more information when you land in LA. Good luck, agents."

"Thank you, Director. General," they said, leaving Graham's office.

Casey chuckled. "Can't believe there's some asshole dressed up like Batman stealing our crap," he said. "But you gotta admit, this guy's good…"

"Yeah," Sarah agreed. Then she remembered watching _The Green Hornet_ with Chuck when she was younger. "The Green Hornet…"

"What?"

"This Osiris guy…he's dressed up more like the Green Hornet than Batman," she said. Casey scoffed.

"Nerd…"

**

* * *

**

**October, 1990 (Age Ten)**

"Sarah, honey?" called Dana.

"Yes, mom?" Sarah's voice rang from the living room, as she bounced a soccer ball in the air.

"You're not playing ball in the house, are you?"

The blonde girl snatched the ball from the air, and rolled it down the hallway. "No!" she lied. She knew her mother was rolling her eyes from the kitchen.

"Okay, then…" said Dana skeptically, "Can you do me a favor, hon?"

"I don't want to do the laundry…" Sarah warned, walking into the kitchen. Dana chuckled, as she scooped fresh baked chocolate chip cookies into a plastic container.

"Don't worry, sweetie, you don't have to do the laundry," the woman smiled, handing Sarah a cookie. "Would you like to bring some of these cookies over to Chuck's house?"

"I _could_…" Sarah began deviously, "But only if I get an extra scoop of rocky road after dinner!"

Dana gave her a daughter a stern look, to which Sarah played off with a grin.

"Kidding!" she offered, taking the container of cookies. "I had to go to Chuck's anyway," said Sarah. "We're learning division in school, and he's going to help me. Fourth grade is _tough_!"

"Okay, Sarah," said Dana, pushing a stray strand of Sarah's hair back in place, "Just be home before 7:00."

"Okay!" Excitedly, Sarah ran out of the kitchen, and grabbed her book bag that was propped against the kitchen table. With a quick wave to her mother, Sarah ran out the door. She happily skipped down the sidewalk (unknowingly crumbling the cookies in the plastic container), and onto Chuck's block.

She loved spending time with Chuck. Out of everyone at their school, Chuck was clearly the coolest kid there. He was funny, and he was always trying to help everyone out. Sarah thought back to the one time in their PE class when Chuck was made captain of one of the dodge ball teams, and he picked Billy Weir first. Billy Weir was a boy in their class who smelled bad, and he was always the last kid picked whenever they had to play dodge ball in PE. But when Chuck picked him first, Sarah remembered how happy Billy was. Although, at the time, Sarah was angry with Chuck for not picking her first, she thought it was "super cool" of him to pick Billy.

Sarah skipped up the front porch of the Bartowski's house, and rang the doorbell. A couple of seconds later, she was greeted by Chuck's older sister, Ellie.

"Hey, Elle!" Sarah cried happily. She held up the container filled with crumbled up chocolate chip cookies. "My mom just baked these, and she wanted me to give these to you."

The older girl smiled, and took the container. "Thank you, Sarah. Do you want to come in?" Ellie stepped aside as Sarah nodded. Sarah walked into the familiar living room of the old-fashioned, ranch style house. She smiled as she saw a newly framed picture of herself and Chuck, both with their arms wrapped over each other's shoulders and grinning happily as they celebrated Sarah's soccer team having an undefeated season, up on the mantle. "Chuck's in his room," said Ellie. "He's been acting weird today…"

Sarah grinned over at Ellie. "I'll see what's wrong with him."

Ellie chuckled kindly. "I'm sure you will. If he doesn't tell you what's wrong—"

"Just tickle the bottom of his feet," Sarah finished. "Got it!"

"That's right! Well, I have to go to the library, but if you need anything, my dad's in his office," said Ellie, placing the cookies on the kitchen counter. "Be sure to thank your mom for the cookies."

"I will. Bye, Ellie!"

"Bye, Sarah." Ellie gave Sarah one last smile, and walked out of the house.

As quietly as she could, Sarah tip-toed up the stairs to where Chuck's room was. When she reached his door, she softly clutched onto the doorknob, and turned it as quietly as possible. Once the doorknob turned as far as it was able, Sarah pushed open the door, causing it to swing open against the wall. She giggled as Chuck let out a high pitched scream in surprise. Her giggling ceased when she saw that she had caused Chuck to tip over his bottle of glue. She watched in horror as the glue spilled over across his desk.

"Oh my gosh! I'm sorry!" Sarah ran over to Chuck's desk, and tried scooping up the spilled glue with her hands. The only thing that accomplished was spreading glue further across the desk.

"It's okay," said Chuck, sounding miserable. "C'mon, let's get a wet towel to wipe that," he pointed to the puddle, "and you can wash your hands…"

She followed, trying to keep the glue from dripping down onto the carpet, as Chuck led the way to the bathroom. He turned the knobs on the sink for her. Then he grabbed a towel off of the rack.

"What were you doing with all that glue?" asked Sarah, scrubbing her hands underneath the water, "Are you working on your Halloween costume?" She remembered Chuck telling her that he was going to be Hawkman for Halloween this year.

Chuck shook his head, and handed Sarah the towel. Once she dried her hands, he took the towel, and wet it underneath the sink.

"Then what were you doing?" Sarah repeated, following Chuck out of the bathroom. Chuck's head dropped.

"I broke my mom's favorite necklace…" he mumbled, holding up a chain. Sarah took it, and she noticed that the boy in the family shaped pendant had been snapped off.

"Oh, no…" she murmured.

"Yeah, I have to fix it before my mom comes home!" the boy cried, sounding desperate. "But I don't know how…"

"It's okay, Chuck. I'll help you…"

Chuck gave Sarah a grateful smile, but it quickly faded when they heard the front door swinging open. Mary came bustling into the house, and the children watched as the brunette woman sprinted quickly up the stairs with a hurried, desperate expression on her face. She skidded to a halt when she saw Chuck and Sarah standing in the middle of the hallway, with Sarah holding the broken necklace.

"Mom!" Chuck cried, taking the necklace from Sarah. "I'm sorry! I accidentally broke your necklace. I'm so, so sorry!"

Mary took the necklace from her son's hand, and sadly said, "Not now, Charles."

The children watched, confused, as Mary ran into the master bedroom, and seconds later, she ran out carrying a metal briefcase. Without a word, she hurried down the staircase. Before she reached the door, she stopped and looked up at Chuck who was still standing at the top of the stairs, looking frightened and confused.

"Goodbye, son." With that, she turned back to the door, and ran out of the house.

Sarah looked over at Chuck, and saw he had a tear rolling down his cheek. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Chuck…"

The little boy shrugged off her hand, and walked pitifully to his bedroom. Sarah didn't know what to do, so she just stood there, abashed. Seeing that Chuck hadn't shut his bedroom door closed, she slowly walked toward it.

When she got to the door, she saw Chuck huddled into a corner with more tears streaming down his face. Sarah walked over and sat down next to him. She bumped her shoulder gently into his.

"I think she went to go get the necklace fixed…" said Sarah. "Don't be sad, Chuck…"

"What if she doesn't come back?" Chuck sniffed.

"She'll come back," Sarah promised. "I know she will."

The children sat in silence for the next two hours, which made Sarah uncomfortable. She wasn't used to sitting still for so long, but she knew that she had to be there for her friend. After all, that's what friends are supposed to do: to be there for each other. When it eventually came time for Sarah to go home for dinner, she slowly wrapped her arm around Chuck's shoulder. Not knowing what came over her, she gave the boy a peck on the cheek.

"You're going to be okay, Chuck," she promised.

**

* * *

**

**Millennium Airlines Flight 815**

Sarah sat next to a snoozing Casey on their flight to LA. She had no idea how Casey was always able to sleep on plane rides. No matter how far and how long she flew, Sarah was never able to sleep on planes. So she unbuckled her seatbelt, and reached down to grab her purse. Pulling out the copy of _Forbes_ she had purchased earlier, she flipped through the pages until she reached the article on Chuck. She chuckled to herself when she saw a picture of Chuck, holding out a cell phone as if he was brandishing a sword, and she began to read the article.

_**Charles Bartowski—Living Legend**_

_At the young age of 26, Charles Bartowski appears to be your typical, everyday guy. He stands at around six feet, four inches, and he enjoys spending much of his free time with friends and family or playing _Call of Duty_ on X-Box Live. If you were to see him walking down the street, you'd probably just see a normal man, wearing a casual buttoned up shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of black and white Converse Chuck Taylors. _

_However, Bartowski is far from a normal man. He is the CEO of Legend Enterprises. Only being around for four years, the company is already worth an estimated 31.7 billion dollars. _

_When asked how Legend began, Charles Bartowski gave a timid smile and replied, "Well, it started off when I was in college. I've always been a nerd. Ever since I was a little kid. Although I was in a fraternity, I never really partied. Too much, anyway!" (Laughs) "But yeah, I was into programming, and I started writing a new operating system for fun. I installed it on my computer, and yeah…about six months after graduation, it was published."_

_LEOS, Legend's operating system, was released in the fall of 2003, and sold over 3.2 million copies in the first year. By word of mouth, the fastest working operating system ever created spread like rapid fire. By the summer of 2005, LEOS was the lead operating system, outselling Windows Vista and MacOS by over 5 million copies._

_In the fall of 2005, Bartowski met up with some of his old engineering buddies from Stanford, and they began to create the Intel Cell cellular phones. The cell phones operate out of the satellites that Legend built, and they are widely known as the only cell phone carrier to always have full signal wherever they are. By the winter of 2005, Legend signed a government contract, and they now provide phones for the US military and other branches of the government. _

_Now, in 2007, Legend Enterprises has over a hundred campuses across the country, and they now specialize in anything from video games (Charles Bartowski's favorite department), to military technologies._

_In just four years, Legend Enterprises truly is…_legendary_._

_When asked how he feels about his sudden rise to success, Charles Bartowski flushed. "To be honest, I never expected any of it," he told us. "I know a lot of people say these kinds of things, and I don't know if they mean it or if they're just…being modest or whatever, but I just like living a normal life. I still live with my sister, which I don't know why I'm even telling you, and I still keep in touch with my old friends, and we all hang out on weekends."_

Smiling to herself, Sarah closed the magazine. Of course Chuck was still living with Ellie. The two of them relied on each other so much ever since their mother left. Sarah had to admit, she was genuinely happy for her old friend…she felt her cheeks blush as she wondered if Chuck was married…

**

* * *

**

**April, 1993 (Age Twelve)**

As per usual, Sarah grinned as she walked out of basketball practice to see Chuck waiting for her in front of the gym. Over the last year, Sarah had grown a good six inches, and she now stood at 5'4", whereas Chuck didn't grow at all—he was short for his age. Sarah was the star center of their middle school basketball team, and Chuck was the president of the AV club, so every day, they stayed after school and waited for one another to be done with their activities.

"Hey, Chuck!" Sarah waved, jogging over to her friend. Immediately, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "How was AV club?"

"It was fun; we watched _Terminator 2_ today, but…I'm not supposed to tell you that," smiled Chuck.

"No way! You guys watched an R-rated movie?"

Chuck shushed her. "Jeez, Sarah…tell the whole world, why don't you…"

Sarah giggled. "I'm sorry. How was it? My parents won't let me see it…"

"Well, we only saw half of the movie, but it was incredible!" said Chuck enthusiastically. As they walked out of the school, Sarah listened as Chuck excitedly explained to her about the movie.

"Wow…" Sarah breathed. "That sounds _so_ cool!"

"It is," Chuck agreed.

"I don't have practice tomorrow," said Sarah, smiling coyly at her friend. "Do you think you could…sneak me into AV club so I could watch the movie?"

Chuck made a _psh_-ing sound, and laughed. "Of course I can! All the guys would be excited if you were there! I mean…a pretty girl in the AV room? The janitor's going to need an extra mop to wipe off all the nerd drool!"

"I'm not pretty…" said Sarah, blushing. For the last couple of months, she had built a slight crush on her friend. Of course, she never told him that because there's no way Chuck would ever feel the same way about her. After all, he always insisted that they were like brother and sister.

"Yeah, you are," Chuck insisted softly.

Sarah rolled her bright blue eyes. "Whatever you say, Chucky. If I'm so pretty, how come no one's asked me to the dance yet?"

"Be_cause_," Chuck huffed, rolling his eyes as well, "all the guys are scared of you since you're like the best basketball player in the world, and you're funny, and you're super cool, and you're the prettiest girl at school, and...because…"

Sarah looked over at Chuck whose face was a deep shade of red. "Because…what, Chuck?"

"Because…I've been giving my lunch money to the guys' basketball team for the last two months so they wouldn't ask you to the dance," said Chuck quickly, wincing and shutting his eyes in case Sarah wanted to hit him.

"_What_?" Sarah cried angrily, rounding up on Chuck. "Why would you do that?"

Chuck cowered. "Because…_I _wanted to ask you…"

She felt the muscles in her face relaxing, causing her angry glare to fade. _Did I hear him right? He wants to ask me to the dance?_ But Sarah played it cool…just in case she misheard Chuck. She asked softly, "You…what?"

"I know, it's stupid!" Chuck cried, his arms crashing down at his sides. "But I just thought…I thought we could go to the dance together because it's the last dance of the year, and…"

"And…?"

"I maybe…I kind of…sort of…" Chuck took a deep breath. "_Like you_…okay, that was probably the stupidest thing in the world to say. I mean, we're friends. We're great friends, and Ellie made me watch this movie where they said relationships can ruin friendships, and it was stupid. I'm sorry. Forget I said anything!"

Chuck quickly walked away from her, his shoulder hanging low in shame. For a moment, Sarah couldn't move. There were a million things that she wanted to do! One of them consisted of her dancing in joy and screaming happily at the top of her lungs. Chuck…her best friend, Chuck, _likes_ her? He thinks she's pretty? _And_ super cool? This may be the best day of her life!

By the time Sarah had come to her senses, Chuck was already more than halfway down the block. Letting out a happy sigh, Sarah jogged over to him.

"Chuck!" she called after him. But he continued to walk away, not even glancing back. "Chuck, wait! Please!"

Finally, Chuck stopped, and began to blabber. "I know! I'm stupid…that was a stupid thing to do. I mean, you're _Sarah Walker_, captain of the girls' basketball team. And I'm Chuck…the loser, president of the AV club who likes to read comic books, and draw pictures of robots, and—"

He stopped as Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around him, and whispered, "Chuck? Sometimes you talk _way_ too much…"

"I'm sorry…it's because I get nervous, and—"

"Shhh…" She pulled away from the hug, and looked into Chuck's brown eyes. "I would love to go to the dance with you, and…Chuck? I've had a crush on you too…"

Chuck's mouth dropped in an O shape, and Sarah giggled.

"That's…wow…" he breathed. "Really? This isn't an April's Fool's joke, right?"

Sarah shook her head. "No…I like you. Like…like, _like_ you."

At that, Chuck grinned widely, and for some odd reason, Sarah felt…_warm_ inside. It was strange how whenever Chuck would grin at her, she always got the feeling of something fluttering in her stomach. Maybe this is what people meant when they said they have butterflies in their stomachs…

Minutes went by, and the two of them just stood there. While they were both beyond ecstatic, neither had any idea what to say or do next. Timidly, Sarah held her hand out to Chuck. As he laced his fingers around hers, Sarah felt herself blushing for the thousandth time.

"So…" Sarah began, wracking her brain for something to break the silence. "Uh…there's _another_ Terminator in the second movie?"

"What?" asked Chuck, looking up at Sarah in confusion. Then a look of realization spread across his face. "Oh, yeah…like…he's liquid metal, and it's super crazy! He looks small, but he's _really_ mean! There was this part where he threw the original Terminator out of the window! I don't know how they're going to stop him, because he's indestructible!"

Sarah smiled as Chuck continued talking about the liquid metal Terminator. She found him to be really cute whenever he babbled—especially when he babbled about things that he was passionate about. She stepped as close as she could next to him, and when she could get any closer, she released his hand, and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. She had once seen a couple walking into her parents' store one day, and the girl was walking around with her head resting on her boyfriend's shoulder. Sarah tried this, but since Chuck was shorter than her, she just rested her head on top of his.

When they reached Sarah's street, Chuck began to turn, only to be pulled away be Sarah.

"I have to help my mom stock golf clubs today," she told him. "I'll just walk you home, and maybe…if you want…um…you can come over for dinner tonight?"

Chuck smiled bashfully. "Okay. Do you want me to bring over _The Goonies_?"

"Duh!" Sarah giggled.

After she walked Chuck to his house, Sarah happily skipped (something she hasn't done in years) to her parents' sporting goods store. For the last twenty minutes, Sarah just couldn't wipe the grin off her face! She was certain that nothing could put a damper on her good mood.

She stepped up to the door of her parents' store, and beamed. "Mrs. Sarah Bartowski…" she whispered to herself. "I like it!"

As she was about to pull open the door to her parents' sporting goods store, it flung open wildly. Sarah stumbled backwards and fell on her back.

"_Ow…_" she murmured, slowly getting up. She saw a man sprinting down the street as if he were being chased by ghosts. "That's weird…"

Wiping the dirt off of her backside, Sarah pulled open the door and stepped inside.

"Hey, Mom!" she called. "Guess what? Chuck asked me to the dance today!" Silence. Sarah walked over by the checkout counter. "Mom…?"

When Sarah heard a whimper from the floor, she looked down, and immediately her whole body shook in shock. Dana Walker was leaning against the counter; blood pouring from her chest.

**

* * *

**

**Burbank, CA**

**September 29, 2007**

Sarah stood, leaning against the black Porsche that the CIA had provided for her. She was waiting for Casey, who was provided with a black, 1985 Crown Victoria. About three minutes after she had arrived, Sarah saw the black car squealing into the parking lot, parking next to her Porsche.

"I just smoked your ass, Casey," Sarah gloated, "The 80's are over, man. You should really think about trading the Vic in for something new. Maybe you can go for something made in the 90's?"

Casey grunted. "If we were under fire while driving our vehicles, I would make it out of that situation alive. You want to know why?" Casey pointed to his car. "Because this baby is one of America's best creations. A German panzer tank can fire at this masterpiece, and Vic wouldn't even get a scratch."

"Oohh-kay," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "So did you bring Ronald with ya?"

Casey grunted. Sarah knew that wherever Casey went, he always brought a statue of Ronald Reagan with him.

"Graham called while I was out on the road," Casey said, taking his bags out of the trunk. "He said for you to check your phone. It's shut off."

Sarah dug through her purse, and pulled out an older Intel Cell model phone. It was indeed off.

"Damn it," she groaned. "This piece of shit always shuts off randomly…"

"I saw a BuyMore a couple miles east from here," said Casey. "I'll drop your stuff off at your penthouse, and you can go get that thing fixed."

"Aw, Casey…I always knew you were a softy…" Sarah reached up and pinched Casey's cheek.

"Shut up," he said, taking Sarah's bags out of her car. "Call me when you get your phone fixed."

"Yes, sir," replied Sarah, getting into her car. She peeled out of the parking lot, and head east toward the BuyMore Plaza. Reaching over to the radio, Sarah grabbed a cord, and hooked it up to her iPod. Sarah bobbed her head to the music, and in about ten minutes, she pulled up into the BuyMore parking lot.

Sarah stepped into the store, and at the center, she found what she was looking for: the Nerd Herd help desk. Unfortunately, when she reached the desk, there was no Nerd Herder to be found. Sighing to herself, she leaned against the desk, her eyes wandering over to the CD aisles. _Hm…I haven't bought any music for awhile…_

As her eyes scanned around the store, she did a double take when she saw a tall man, with short brown hair dressed in a red t-shirt talking to a short, bearded BuyMore employee next to the videogames. She watched as the man laughed, and she could recognize that smile anywhere. It was Chuck Bartowski…

In that moment, Sarah forgot that she was a bad ass spy for the CIA. Without thinking, Sarah walked over to where Chuck was standing, and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Chuck Bartowski?" she asked nervously.

"Yes?" Chuck asked, turning around. When the two of them made eye contact, Chuck's mouth dropped. "Sarah Walker?"

"The one and only!" Sarah said happily, grinning like she's never grinned before.

"Wow…talk about a blast from the past," he chuckled, turning to his bearded friend. "Morgan, remember Sarah Walker?"

"No way!" Morgan cried, looking wide eyed up at Sarah.

"Morgan Grimes?" Sarah cried, remembering Chuck's friend from AV club. "Wow! I see that you finally grew your beard…"

"Indeed I did," said Morgan, running his hands through his fur. "Had this baby for about six years now…I'm never shaving it off."

"Yikes…"

"Oh, man…Big Mike's calling for me," said Morgan. Sarah turned to see a large, round black man waving Morgan over. "And that's my cue to leave. Well, buddy…_Call of Duty_ tonight?"

"You betcha," Chuck smiled. "Later, Morgan."

"Later, Chuck," said Morgan, running toward his boss. He turned back to Sarah. "Sarah, it was awesome seeing you!"

"You too!" Sarah called, waving to Morgan.

"Wow…" Chuck breathed, grinning widely at Sarah. She felt her knees shake slightly. Ever since the magical CIA makeover that Sarah had gotten, she usually felt uneasy and creeped out whenever guys would look at her like she was a fine slab of rib-eye. But the way that Chuck was smiling at her just made her feel warm…comfortable. "Sarah freaking Walker…"

"Chuck freaking Bartowski," she mimicked, a giggle escaping from her throat. "This is _so_ crazy!"

"I know!"

"No, look," Sarah dug through her purse and pulled out the magazine, and held it out to Chuck. "I was at the store early this morning, and I saw this!"

"Ah!" Chuck mimed screaming, and held his fingers out in a cross. "Away with that beast!"

Sarah giggled.

"No, but seriously…" said Chuck, blushing, and pushing the magazine down. "That…that stuff embarrasses me…"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep," he said. Sarah studied him, and she could tell that he was telling the truth. He seriously looked uncomfortable at the fact that he was on a magazine cover.

"Oh, I'm sorry…"

"It's cool. I mean…we haven't spoken in like, what? Ten years?"

"Yeah, sorry about that." A rush of guilt washed over her. "I wanted to call…"

"Yeah, but '_witness protection,_' right?" Chuck smiled, using air quotes. Sarah laughed at the old inside joke.

"Totally," she smiled.

"Is it safe to assume that you're no longer under 'witness protection?' Or should I be calling you Ms. Burton right now?"

"Nope, no longer under 'witness protection,'" Sarah replied, using air quotes as well.

"Well, that's good…"

"Yep."

"Yeah, so…what have you been up to? How long have you been in Burbank?"

"I just flew in about," Sarah checked her watch, "thirty minutes ago. I got a new job…"

"Oh, wow!" Chuck laughed. "That's awesome!"

Sarah shrugged. "It's just a boring old office job. I'm an office manager at…" Sarah scrunched her eyebrows together. She couldn't remember if the CIA had provided a name for the fake company she was working for. "To be honest, I can't even remember." Sarah laughed. "But yeah. Other than that, um…graduated from Harvard…"

"East coast rival," Chuck mumbled, pretending to glare.

"So you went to Stanford? You got the scholarship?"

"Indeed, I did, ma'am," Chuck smiled.

"That's just…_wow_," Sarah just could not stop grinning, "I'm so happy for you!"

"For me? You're the one that went to Harvard!" Chuck cried, laughing. "Way more prestigious than Stanford…"

"Meh," she shrugged. "So can I ask what you're doing here at the BuyMore?"

"Just came by to talk to Morgan," he replied. "What about you?"

"There's something wrong with my phone," she replied, taking her phone out of her purse. "Damn thing keeps turning off…"

She held in a gasp as Chuck's fingers brushed hers as he reached for her phone. "May I?"

"Um…yeah," she choked out. Chuck took the phone and studied it.

"Oh, it's the first model of the Intel Cell," he said, shaking his head.

"Oh yeah…I forgot that you made these," said Sarah, remembering the article that she had read.

"I don't make them," Chuck laughed. "An old buddy from Stanford pitched the idea…I couldn't say no. But…it worked out okay in the end."

Sarah nodded.

"Anyway, this model has a screw that pops out." Chuck slid off the battery cover, and looked up. "Hey, Lester! Toss me the Phillip's head screwdriver please!"

Sarah looked back in time to duck under a flying screwdriver. Chuck caught it from the air with ease, and he began turning the driver on her phone.

"A couple of quick turns, and…good as new." Chuck smiled, and handed her phone back to her.

"Wow…you really _are_ still a geek…"

Chuck gave Sarah a mock hurt expression. "It's _nerd_, Sarah…gosh!"

"I know…I just remembered how you always hated being called a geek, and you preferred to be called nerd," Sarah teased. "But I have to get going. I just got here, and I have to meet up with a real estate agent…"

"Oh, yeah…of course," said Chuck.

"Um…" Sarah began sheepishly, "Do you want to get coffee sometime? Maybe tomorrow?"

Sarah winced as Chuck began to have a coughing fit. _Smooth, Walker…why the _hell_ would he want to get coffee with you? He probably has a bunch of girls lining up outside of his house…_

"Yeah, I'd love to," Chuck gasped. "Yikes…sorry about that."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine…I guess it all just hit me…" Chuck laughed nervously. Wow, he really hasn't changed… "But coffee sounds great!"

"Okay, then," said Sarah, taking a pen from her purse. She pointed to Chuck's hand. "May I?"

Chuck looked momentarily confused. Then a look of realization spread across his face. He grinned and held out his hand. Sarah scribbled her number on his arm, and gave it a tap. "Call me and let me know when you're available," she said, trying to put her best seductress face on.

"You bet," smiled Chuck. "I'll definitely see you tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to it." With that, Sarah stepped up, and gave Chuck a hug. "I've missed you…"

"I've missed you too," he breathed, giving Sarah a case of déjà vu.

"Okay," Sarah stepped back from the hug reluctantly. She could hold on to Chuck forever… "Bye for now…"

"Yep…bye, Sarah…" She gave him a smile, and turned to walk away. She stopped when she heard Chuck's voice again. "You're not going to ditch me again are you?"

Sarah's heart shattered at the memory, but when she turned back to Chuck, she saw he was wearing his goofy smile.

"Nope!" Sarah called. "I'll be there!"

**

* * *

**

**March, 1998 (Age 17) **

**San Francisco, CA**

After the robbery, and the death of Dana Walker, Sarah's father, Gerald Walker, became a broken man. He packed up all their belongings, and moved away, telling Sarah that he couldn't stand to live in Encino anymore. As the years went by, Gerald discovered a hidden talent: he was quite the conman. And so, he became a conman, and somehow, Sarah had become his partner…his accomplice.

At first, she was reluctant in joining her father for the jobs, but the more cons they pulled, the bigger the rush became for the both of them. She had to admit, it was fun, but deep down, she knew what they were doing was wrong. Deep down, she longed to just be a normal family again…

Sarah…er…Jenny Burton didn't even want to come on this stupid trip to Davies Symphony Hall. In fact, she didn't even know _why_ she decided to join the school orchestra. Okay, she did…she was tired of being alone…tired of being friendless, and although she wanted to play sports for the school, her father told her that she shouldn't. If she wanted to join a school sports team, she would be required to take a physical, and they weren't sure if their fake identification papers, and their fake Social Security numbers would pass in a doctor's office. So, she decided to play the viola for James Buchannan High School's orchestra. Unfortunately, it was pretty hard to make friends in the orchestra. Who knew there were so many cliques?

She had played when she was younger…her mother taught her when she was a little girl. And that is why she was at the symphony hall. Her school orchestra was one of the five other high schools to make it to the state competition. As a treat, a generous music lover treated all five of those high schools to hotel rooms so that the students could spend their spring breaks in San Francisco and to listen and see the San Francisco Symphony…

Sometime in the last four years, Jenny (Sarah), had, er…_blossomed_ into a woman. She grew about another five inches, and had developed. Unfortunately, Jack Burton (Gerald Walker), knew nothing about hair products and make up, so Jenny was left with stringy blonde hair and awkward braces. She just looked awkward.

Jenny sat apart from the other members of the orchestra while their teacher was talking to the woman behind the front desk. She stood up off her cushioned chair, and began to dig through her bag to look for her Discman. When she finally found it, Jenny plugged in her headphones, and powered the CD player on. As she turned back to sit in her chair, a tall, curly haired boy accidentally knocked her with his guitar case, causing her to drop her Discman. Jenny watched as the lid popped open, and her CD popped out.

"Oh my God, I am _so_ sorry!" the boy said, quickly kneeling down to grab the CD player off the floor. When he went to grab the CD off the floor, his hand stopped. "_Pablo Honey_ by Radiohead?" He grabbed the CD off of the ground, and popped it back into the Discman. "This is one of the _greatest_ albums ever made!" he declared, handing the Discman back to Jenny.

Jenny was about to thank the boy, but as she looked up into the boy's rich, brown eyes, she clenched her jaw. The boy stared curiously at her.

"Sarah?" he breathed, squinting at her. "Sarah Walker?"

"What? No!" She cried, shaking her head fiercely. "My name…my name…" _damn it, what's my name again?_ "My name…is Jenny. Jenny Burton."

"Oh," said the boy, looking slightly disappointed. Confused as well. "You just look like this girl I used to know…Sarah Walker," The boy scrunched his eyebrows together, and looked thoughtful. Then he shrugged to himself. "Anyway…sorry about bumping into you. I grew about a foot last year, and gosh…I keep tripping over my feet!" he chuckled nervously, and held out a hand. "I'm Chuck. Chuck Bartowski. I play bass for the Burbank High School jazz band. "

Jenny swallowed. "Okay," she squeaked, shaking Chuck's hand.

That's when Chuck flashed her his trademark grin. The same grin that reached all the way up to his warm, brown eyes, and caused his nose to slightly crinkle. The same grin that used to give her butterflies in her stomach. She felt that familiar sensation once more and she shook her head as she tried to get those damn butterflies out.

Chuck began to blabber about how awesome Radiohead is and how they were one of his most favorite bands in the world, but Jenny didn't listen. Instead, she studied him. It seems that Chuck had probably grown over a foot since the last time she saw him. He was just so…_tall_. And awkwardly skinny…but his face was still the kind, caring face she remembered from her childhood. His curly hair still made those "funny animal shapes" as well. For the most part, Jenny had to admit, Chuck kind of got hot…

"…and that is why I think _Pablo Honey_ is one of the greatest albums of all time," Chuck finished.

Jenny looked up at him in confusion. She desperately wanted to ask Chuck what he's been up to in the last four years. She wanted to know how he, Ellie, and Stephen were. But if she did that, she would blow her cover.

"Uh-oh…" said Chuck, bending down so that he was at eye-level with her. "I think I put you to sleep…I never met anyone who slept with their eyes open before. Actually, my older sister, Ellie sometimes sleeps with her eyes open…"

"What?" Jenny asked, blinking her eyes, trying to snap back to reality. "Yeah…_Pablo Honey…_awesome album. Sorry about that. I was just spacing out…"

"I see," smiled Chuck. "Yeah, I have this horrible tendency of babbling when I'm nervous."

"Why would you be nervous?"

Chuck blushed, and in turn, Jenny felt her face becoming warm. "I don't know," he said. "You just look like someone I know…it's bringing back a lot of memories…"

"Oh, well…" Jenny searched for the right words. "Um…I'm sorry to disappoint?"

Chuck laughed, and shook his head. "No, you have nothing to be sorry for."

_Oh, but I do have something to be sorry for_, Jenny thought to herself, _I'm sorry for never being able to say goodbye to you_…

She felt like a lunatic. For the last five hours (give or take), she discretely walked around the hotel, trying to find Chuck. She went up and down all of the floors, and she may or may not have checked all of the men's restrooms (a girl's entitled to her secrets). But just when she was about to give up hope on the tenth floor, she heard a door creaking open, and saw a tall boy stepping out of his hotel room.

Holding in a gasp, Jenny moved as quickly as she could back to the elevator while Chuck turned back toward his room to yell something at his friend. Her breath was shaky as she pressed the DOWN button on the elevator.

"Jenny?"

She sucked in a breath, as she turned to face Chuck, who was giving her a curious look.

"Hey, Chuck…"

"Hi. Um…I thought the James Buchannan kids were on the twelfth floor?"

"Yeah," Jenny laughed nervously. "I must have gotten off at the wrong floor. I do that sometimes…"

Chuck smiled kindly. _God, he must think I'm an idiot_.

"Right, well," he said, holding up an ice bucket. "I just went out to get some ice…"

"Cool," she said lamely, wanting to slam her head into the wall.

"Yeah, uh…I'll see you around, I guess." Chuck gave her another smile, and turned to make his way to the ice machine.

_You know what? Screw covers_! She thought to herself. _I deserve to know how my old friend has been doing over the years!_

"Chuck!" she called, running down the hall to catch up to him. When she did, he gave her curious look. _Okay, so how am I going to do this_…?

"Yeah…?"

"Oh…um…" Jenny, no, Sarah, took a deep breath. "It's me."

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Yeah…you. As in, Jenny…"

"No, _me_…" Sarah huffed. "It's Sarah Walker."

Sarah held her breath as Chuck looked down at her in shock. Slowly, he scowled at her. "I don't think that's funny, Jenny. I mean, I like jokes as much as the next guy, but Sarah was my best friend, and I haven't seen her in years. If you were pretending to be anyone else, it _might_ be funny, but…no offense, this joke sucks."

"Chuck, I swear to you, _I_ am Sarah!" she cried desperately. "We used to watch _The Goonies_ every weekend, and you were president of the AV club at school…and…my mom always used to bake extra cookies for you and Ellie…you cried for five hours after Optimus Prime died in the _Transformers_ movie."

Chuck's scowl began to fade as he studied her. Sarah wished that she took care of her damn hair…she could have at least stolen Heather Chandler's make up kit. No, that would have been a mistake. If she wore make up with this hideous hair, then she would just look silly…and with her luck, there would be chunks of lipstick stuck on her damn braces…

"Oh my God…" Chuck breathed. "It _is_ you! Dude! Where did you and your dad go? Why are you going by Jenny Burton now?"

Sarah smiled in relief. "It's a long story, Chuck…" she replied. Suddenly, she felt a wave of emotion sweeping over her, and hot tears began to form in her eyes. She let out a shaky sob, and rushed over to Chuck, wrapping her arms around his skinny body. "I've missed you…"

"I've missed you too," Chuck whispered. She felt him tightening his arms around her. "But…where did you go?"

Sarah looked up at him, tears still running down her face. "I don't have time to explain…the chaperones will be here soon…"

"Oh, right…" It broke her heart to see Chuck's face falling like that. But she was right. The chaperones will be out to patrol the halls soon…if they caught them…

Sudden inspiration struck Sarah. "How tired are you?"

"What?"

"I mean…are you sleepy at all?"

"Uh…not really. Why?"

"Listen," she began. "There's a rec-room down in the basement. Do you think you could meet me there in…" Sarah grabbed Chuck's wrist and read his watch. "two hours?"

For the next hour and a half, Sarah had begged her roommate, cellist, Emily, to teach her how to properly apply hair product. It was actually kind of easy, which made Sarah hate herself a bit about the fact that she could have just gone out and either buy or steal some, and figure it easily out on her own. But the eyeliner? Sarah had many problems with that. After poking herself in the eye with the eyeliner pencil about forty times, Sarah was finally able to move onto mascara.

She studied herself in the mirror, and smiled.

"I _knew_ there was a beautiful swan hidden somewhere in there…" Emily commented.

"Quiet," Sarah giggled, looking over at the digital clock. She had five minutes to sneak down to the basement to see Chuck. Sarah turned to Emily. "Okay, Emily…if you tell anyone that I left, I'll cut you."

Emily let out a horrified gasp.

"I'm kidding," said Sarah. "But seriously…please don't tell anyone I left."

"I won't," Emily promised.

"Thank you." Sarah crept over to the door, and cracked it open just a smidgen. As far as she could tell, she couldn't see any chaperones. As quickly and quietly as she could, she ran to the staircase, and down the stairs.

When Sarah reached the basement, slightly out of breath, she hoped that Chuck had been able to sneak out okay. Oh, no…what if Chuck was just playing her? What if he thought she was some…_psycho_, and he decided to get rid of her by humoring her into believing that _he_ believed that she really was Sarah?

The thoughts soon diminished as she saw Chuck nervously stumbling into the basement.

"Oh, thank god!" Chuck cried. "I didn't know if you were coming…to be honest, I thought you might be some…"

_Please don't say stalker._

"—Stalker or something."

_Damn it!_

"But then, I…remembered your eyes…"

"My eyes?"

"Well, yeah…" said Chuck, shuffling his feet. Sarah smiled when she saw that he still wore Chuck Taylors… "You had the bluest eyes that I've ever seen…and wow! You look…_great_…"

Trying with all her might not to swoon, Sarah smiled sheepishly up at Chuck.

"Thank you," she said softly. "You don't look so bad yourself. But wow! You grew like ten feet! Remember how I was always taller than you?"

Chuckling, Chuck said, "Yeah…but I seriously grew overnight. Scared the crap out of Ellie one morning…"

Sarah laughed. "How _is_ Ellie? What's she up to?"

"Ellie and I live in Burbank now," said Chuck. "She's going to UCLA."

"Oh, wow! Does she still want to be a doctor?" Sarah remembered being Ellie's nurse while the older girl pretended to be a doctor...

"Of course," Chuck replied, smiling widely.

"That's so cool!" cried Sarah happily. "What about you? What school are you planning on going to?"

"Oh…" said Chuck, suddenly looking somewhat disappointed. "I uh…I got accepted into Stanford…"

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I can't afford it," he said. "I've applied for scholarships and grants, but, so far, nothing…"

Sarah scowled a bit. "Couldn't your dad help you? Stanford's an extremely good school, and I'd imagine he would be proud…"

"My dad left Ellie and me about a year after you and your dad left…" said Chuck. With that comment, Sarah felt her heart sinking into her stomach. Poor Chuck…almost everyone in his life had left him. Practically everyone…it seemed that he only had Ellie now.

"I'm so sorry, Chuck…" Sarah mumbled. Chuck smiled and shook his head.

"It's not your fault," he said. "Unless you're the one that told my dad to leave…"

She glanced up at Chuck and saw that he had a goofy smile plastered on his face. "Oh, _totally_!" she laughed. "You caught me…"

"I knew it!" Chuck snapped his fingers, and chuckled. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when they both heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Sarah grabbed Chuck's wrist, and pulled him into the rec-room. Quickly, she slammed him against the wall behind the door. "Sarah…?"

"Shhh!" she put a finger to her lips. Chuck nodded, and together, they waited in silence. After a long, silent minute, Sarah chanced a peek out of the door. "Sorry," she said, turning back to Chuck. "It could have been a chaperone…"

"Yeah…wow! I never saw anyone move so fast!" Chuck cried, letting out a deep breath.

"Er…thanks?" Sarah offered. She didn't know if it was a compliment or not, but one thing she did know was that if she wanted to spend time with Chuck, they were going to have to leave the hotel. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"Come again?"

"Well…" she began nervously. _C'mon, Sarah! Just ask him if he wants to go for a drive! You haven't seen each other in years! He's not going to say no…_ "There are chaperones everywhere, and I don't want you to get in trouble if we get caught…but I also want…I mean, if you want to…to spend more time together? We could talk without having to worry about getting caught for sneaking out…maybe?"

"Uh…_yeah_, but…where would we go? I don't have my car, and I don't think the buses are running this late at night…"

"I have my car," said Sarah. "So…do you want to go?"

Her heart beat rapidly as she watched Chuck nervously shuffling his feet. After what seemed like hours, he gave her a half grin.

"Okay," he replied. "Let's go."

As Sarah peeled her old Volkswagen Cabriolet out of the hotel parking lot, she and Chuck burst into fits of laughter. She felt a rush coming over her…something that she hadn't felt in a long time. Sure, every time she and her father pulled a con, there was always that…_rush_…but this was a different kind of rush. It was like a wave of happiness. She hadn't felt like this since she was a little girl, and she was going to enjoy every second of it.

"Wow!" Chuck laughed loudly. Sarah glanced over at him to see he was wide-eyed and grinning wildly. "This is…_crazy_!"

Sarah just flashed him a smile. _God…he was so adorable…_

She leaned over to turn on the radio. Chumbawumba's "Tubthumping" blared out, causing her and Chuck to start laughing again.

"This is the most annoying song ever," Chuck laughed. "But it's so darn catchy…"

"I know, right?" Sarah giggled. "It's probably going to be stuck in my head for hours now…"

"Yeah…" Chuck grinned. "So where are we going?"

Crap…she didn't think that far ahead. "How about the Bay? It's probably about a five minute drive to get there…"

"That sounds great," said Chuck enthusiastically, bouncing slightly in his seat. "Um…Sarah? Can I ask you a question?"

Sarah shifted in the driver's seat. "Yeah…"

"Where did you and your dad go after…you know…um…your mom died?" he asked reluctantly. "And why did you change your name to Jenny Burton?"

Sarah swallowed. "Chuck…I wish I could tell you, but…"

"'But' what?"

"I can't?" Sarah offered. She noticed his shoulders slumping in disappointment. "I'm sorry, Chuck, but I don't want to lie to you."

"Oh…" he frowned. But then, he offered her a half-smile. "Well, I'm just going to pretend that you and your dad were witnesses of some crazy mafia murder, and the two of you are now under witness protection."

Sarah laughed. _Oh, if only_…she thought bitterly, _It's better than being the daughter of a conman_. "Sure, let's go with that." Sarah grinned over at Chuck.

Over the next five days, every night, Sarah and Chuck would sneak out of their hotel rooms to meet up with each other. Sure, during the day time, the two of them would fall asleep whenever their bands had to practice, and they both received dirty looks from their band members, but neither cared. What mattered to them was their night meetings. That's all that mattered.

Every night, Sarah would drive to the beach, and together, she and Chuck would just talk. They would reminisce over old memories, share their hopes and dreams, but mostly, they would bond over their similar tastes in music and humor. Whenever Sarah would drive them to sneak back into their hotel rooms, she realized that these were the best nights of her life.

Their third night out together, Chuck had given Sarah a mixtape that he made. It consisted of songs by Radiohead, The Flaming Lips, Sonic Youth, The Cure, The Smiths, Oasis, and more. That night, when Sarah had popped the tape into the deck, and she heard the song, "No Surprises" by Radiohead, she leaned over to Chuck and planted a kiss on his cheek. That led to a few awkward moments of silence…

On their last night out, the two of them didn't have much to say. Sarah didn't want to even think about the fact that this could be the last time she would see Chuck, but the harder she tried to push that thought back, the more it stood out. They sat on the seashore, watching the waves crashing into the sand in silence.

"So…after tonight…" Chuck began, breaking the silence. "Will this be last time we see each other?"

"I don't know," Sarah lied. She knew that it would be…it would only be a matter of time before her father pulls off the "Lichtenstein" on the unknowing Frenchman, and they'd be off to Wisconsin or Idaho... "Maybe…"

"That sucks…"

"Yeah…"

Chuck looked down at his watch. "And we have to leave soon."

"I wish we didn't have to," Sarah admitted sadly.

"Me too," Chuck looked disappointed. Sarah bumped her shoulder into him. He turned to her and gave her a sad smile. "So…what do we do?"

She lifted herself off the sand, and held her hands out to Chuck. "We enjoy it," she smiled sadly, pulling Chuck up to his feet.

As they walked along the shore, Sarah felt Chuck's hand brushing hers. Smiling, she took his hand, and linked her fingers around his. When she leaned her head into his shoulder, a giggle escaped her throat.

"What?" Chuck asked, looking amused.

"I just remembered something," she replied. Chuck remained silent, waiting for her to continue. "Okay…so do you remember back when we were in middle school, and…uh…you asked me to that dance?"

"Oh…yeah…" Even in the dark, Sarah could see Chuck's cheeks flushing red.

"Well, I was just remembering how I was taller than you back then," Sarah continued. "Remember when we were walking home, and…we were holding hands, and how I rested my head on top of yours while we were walking?"

Chuck let out a laugh. "God…that was so embarrassing…"

"I thought it was cute," Sarah shrugged. "And Chuck?"

"Hm?"

"You still owe me a dance," she said softly, just above a whisper.

"What?" Chuck's eyebrows shot up. "Here?"

"Never mind," she said quickly. God! What a stupid thing to say…'_you owe me a dance?'_ Really? Why would Chuck want to dance with her…stupid. Just…stupid.

"No," he said, obviously sensing her discomfort. He tightened his fingers around her hand. "I mean…there's just no music, you know? I was just confused. But yeah, I'd love to dance with you. Here's the thing…I've never…really danced…" he mumbled the last statement.

"Really?" His statement really took her by surprise. What kind of stupid girls went to Chuck's school? Seriously, he's like…the sweetest guy ever! And he's not bad to look at either. Sure, she's never been invited to a dance either, but she had a legitimate excuse! She was…_a loser_, but Chuck? Come on! Sarah pulled on Chuck's hand to get his attention. She had an idea.

She grasped onto his hand tightly, and ran back over to where she had parked her car.

"Sarah? Why are we running?" Chuck asked, his voice shaking. "You didn't see anyone, did you?"

"Nope," Sarah grinned mischievously. "I have an idea." When they got to her car, she released his hand. "Wait right here…"

Sarah opened both the driver and passenger doors, and put the key into to the ignition. After that, she turned the dial on her tape deck as loud as it would go. The song "Wonderwall" by Oasis blared from the speakers, and when she walked back over to Chuck, she gave him a shy smile.

Holding out a hand, Sarah asked, "May I have this dance, good sir?"

Grinning widely, Chuck took her hand. "Yes, you may, milady…"

As she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, Sarah giggled. "We're such dorks…"

Chuck shrugged. "It's okay. It's only us tonight…"

"Yeah," Sarah agreed. She winced as a sharp pain shot through her toes. "Ouch…"

"I'm sorry!" Chuck cried. "It's these big feet of mine…I'm still getting used to them."

"It's fine," Sarah smiled, ignoring her aching toes.

"Um…here." Chuck pulled Sarah in closer to him, causing her breath to catch slightly. "That's better…"

Sarah smiled to herself as she leaned her cheek against Chuck's chest. The two of them swayed to the music, neither of them saying a word—neither of them wanting to ruin the moment. But it was almost time to go…

She bit down hard on her bottom lip, trying desperately to hold back the tears that were forming in her eyes. But she couldn't. The harder she tried to hold the tears in, the harder her body began to shake. Before she knew it, the tears streamed freely down her face, forming a puddle into Chuck's shirt. She felt Chuck's hand gently stroking her hair.

"It's okay," he breathed soothingly. Sarah shook her head.

_No, it's not okay. It's not fair, _she wanted to say, but she didn't. She wasn't going to ruin the moment. Instead, she was just going to hold on tightly to Chuck, and sway.

_**I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now**_

_**And all the roads that lead to you are winding**_

_**And all the lights that lead us there are blinding**_

_**There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how**_

Sarah drove them back to the hotel, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding Chuck's. Neither of them said a word as they snuck back into the hotel lobby, and went up on the elevator. However, Sarah wished that the elevator would stall or something, so that she'd have more time. But when the elevator bell rang when they got to Chuck's floor, she felt more tears brimming in her eyes. She looked sadly up at Chuck to see that he had tears in his eyes too.

"At least…" he began, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, "we get to say goodbye this time…"

"Yeah," Sarah agreed sadly. Chuck dug a folded note from out of his pocket.

"Here," he said, handing her the note. "It's my phone number, and…other stuff. Um…I know you might not be able to call me, but it's worth a shot, you know? And if you can't call, I'd understand." Sarah's heart tugged when Chuck let go of her hand. "Well, um…goodbye, Sarah…"

She couldn't bring herself to say goodbye. If she said it aloud, then…it would just be real. But this is _real_…they both had to go back home soon. Without thinking, Sarah grabbed Chuck's wrist, and pulled him into her. She looked fiercely into his eyes, and stood up on her toes, while grabbing the sides of his face to pull him down. Their lips met somewhere in the middle. As if they were acting on their own accord, Sarah's fingers tangled into Chuck's curly hair.

The kiss could have lasted seconds. It could have lasted minutes—hell, even hours. Sarah didn't know. Nor did she care. All she knew was that she didn't want to pull away. _You're a conman's daughter, Sarah! What are you doing? He's too good for you! He's just an innocent guy, and you're…_you_! You don't deserve him!_

The voice in her head hit her in the gut. Sarah backed away from Chuck, staring down at his black and white Converse shoes.

"Sarah?"

"Goodbye, Chuck," she said, hurrying back into the elevator, and pushing the button to close the door.

"Sarah, wait—!"

The door closed. The last image that she saw of him was the confused, hurt look on his face.

**

* * *

**

**Burbank BuyMore Parking Lot**

Chuck stepped into his white BMW M5, and slammed the door shut. He pulled his phone from his pocket, and hit the send button to call his father.

"_Orion, secure_."

"Osiris, secure," said Chuck into the receiver. "Listen, I just ran into Agent Walker. I didn't flash on her, but double check for me to see if she's part of the Omega Initiative."

**

* * *

**

**A/N:** I'm pretty sure you guys guessed that Chuck is Osiris from the beginning. Well, if you read this far, thank you. Let me know if I should continue this story! Thanks again for reading! If you guys want me to, the next chapter will deal a little more with Chuck's back story. Will there be Charah? Who knows? But there will be a Sarah/Osiris confrontation.

Oh, did you notice that Sarah talks and acts more…girly in this story than she does on the show? I did that on purpose because if you noticed, Sarah was only a con girl for four years. Before that, she had her mom and Chuck in her life. So I decided to make Sarah more open with herself and her feelings in this story, but while out on missions, she's a pure bad ass.


	2. Prologue Pt 2: Daddy Issues

**A/N**: Wow! That last chapter? I gotta admit, I had no idea people would be even into this story…But thank you guys so much for the reviews! So I have to say this, this chapter focuses more on how Chuck got involved working with his dad, and it explains what the Omega Initiative wants. One of the things that I didn't like about the show was how they didn't really explain what The Ring's goals really were…I'm still a little confused about that. Did they want Shaw? Anyway. There is a Chuck and Sarah coffee date though…and a childhood flashback that I couldn't fit into the last chapter. So I hope you guys enjoy! And again, thanks for reading, and reviews make my day!

* * *

**Encino, CA—Orion's Den**

**September 29, 2007**

Whenever Chuck would walk through the doors of his old house, he'd always feel a chill running up his spine. It brought back old memories. Some of them were good memories, like he, Ellie, and Sarah playing board games or hide and seek. But for the most part, he remembered all the bad things: his mother leaving, trying to get his father's attention, but Stephen was almost always too busy for him and Ellie. Hell, when their mother left, it was as if Stephen left with her. Chuck would go for weeks without seeing his father.

He remembered when Sarah had left without a word. He would run home from school to check the mailbox, hoping and wishing that she would send him a letter.

He remembered the day his father left. Never again has he seen his sister cry so hard.

Walking through the dusty, cobweb filled, living room, Chuck turned into his father's old office. He flicked the light switch to a rhythm only known to a select few. Up, _one-one thousand, two-two thousand_, down, _one-one thousand_, up again, down again. A whirring noise emitted from the fireplace as it slid back into the wall. The ground opened, and revealed a staircase.

Chuck walked down the now familiar stairs, and was greeted by what seemed like miles of filing cabinets in neat rows. After walking past the tenth row of cabinets, he turned to the left and made his way to the command center. When he walked into the room filled with computer towers and monitors, he was happily greeted by his old college roommate, best friend, and former CIA agent, Bryce Larkin.

"Your dad made me triple-check Sarah's file, and she's definitely not a part of Omega," said the blue-eyed, dark brown haired man.

"I figured," said Chuck, turning his computer on from his work station.

"So…you're not going to try to…you know. Get with her?"

"Why would I?" asked Chuck, typing in his password. "She's a spy, man. I'm technically a civilian. We haven't seen each other in ten years—"

"—and you've known each other for fourteen years before that, back when we were at Stanford, all you did was talk about her, and back when I was in the CIA, all she did was ask about you," Bryce listed, grinning over at Chuck. "I'm telling you, man. I think you still have a chance to at least hit that."

"Sarah's not that kind of girl," Chuck snapped, not looking away from his computer screen. "Do you know if the Intersect update is ready?"

"I don't think it is," Bryce replied, "Your dad's been working on it all day. That was a lot of data you stole yesterday."

"Yeah, about that, we should have hit Fulcrum first," said Chuck, feeling bitter that his father never listened to him, "I'm pretty sure Sarah's here to try to find me."

"I bet she is," Bryce joked.

"You know what I meant," Chuck sighed, rolling his eyes, "Osiris…"

"Yeah, I know." Chuck looked over at his friend, and he noticed that Bryce had a remorseful look on his face.

"What's wrong with you?"

Bryce snapped his head back. "What?"

"Why do you look all…sad, puppy dog-like?"

"I was just thinking, man," said Bryce, "Do you think Carina is here?"

That's when Chuck understood. Carina had been the first woman that Bryce had ever _truly_ fallen for. Sure, back in Stanford, Bryce would always bring girls over, and Chuck was forced to sleep out on the couch or at his girlfriend, Jill's, room, but Bryce never had actual feelings for any of those other girls. Carina was the only one. And when Bryce was released from the CIA, well, he chose not to see her again. He had his reasons, sure, but Chuck was sure that Bryce regretted that decision.

"I don't know," said Chuck. "I guess we'll find out tomorrow, huh?"

"I guess," Bryce repeated, nodding, "But not that it matters though. I'm sure she wouldn't want to see me again."

"You never know, man," said Chuck encouragingly. A few seconds of silence passed. Chuck took the time to see if they had any more intel in regards to Omega.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Bryce said, "Jill's on her way. She needs to check your suit to make sure it's still okay, and she has another report to give."

"Great…" Chuck muttered.

"She's still into you, you know."

"And like I always tell her," said Chuck, "We're just too similar."

"And what's so wrong with that?"

"Okay, don't get me wrong, Jill's a great girl. She's awesome. But we make for better friends. She and I…all of our interests are the same, you know?" Chuck got off his chair, and grabbed some bottled water for Bryce and himself. He tossed a bottle to Bryce.

"Again, and what's so wrong with that?" Bryce twisted the cap off his bottle.

"It just gets…and I mean this in the nicest way possible…_boring_," Chuck admitted. "It goes like this: _Everquest _Sundays, _Magic the Gathering_ Mondays, _Halo_ Tuesdays—"

"I always liked _Halo_ Tuesdays," a female voice commented from behind Chuck. "But my favorite was Retro Game Fridays."

Chuck shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. The he glared over at Bryce to see that he was flashing Chuck a shit-eating grin. _Bastard did this on purpose_…

"Hey-ya, Jill!" he cried in what he hoped to be a cheerful tone. "I was just telling Bryce about our old routine…"

"Mm-hmm, it's okay, Chuck," Jill smiled, "I've heard the speech before, 'I…I…I want a change! I mean, don't you…don't you get bored with all of this? Don't _you_ get bored?' Really, Chuck. It's okay. I'll get over it."

Chuck stared guiltily at the skinny, slightly egghead-y, brunette woman leaning against the doorway. The truth is, he loved Jill, but just not romantically. Sure, it was fun when they had first started dating in their sophomore year at Stanford, but after the first year, they had just fallen into a routine. It was a nice routine, but Chuck wanted more. He wanted to be introduced to new things, and learn new things that didn't involve pharmaceutical, biology, chemistry…whosey whatsies.

"Well, Chuck," said Jill, "Let's see the suit."

Chuck nodded and led Jill over to the storage room where he kept his Osiris equipment. Pulling the liquid armor suit from its container, he handed it to Jill who laid it down onto a table.

"Can you turn on the lights, please?" she asked. Chuck walked over to the wall, and flicked on the light switch. He watched as Jill examined the suit in the light. "It's getting pretty worn out…"

"Yeah, I got shot a couple of times…I think about six?" Chuck guessed. "Do you think I need a new suit?"

"This one should be fine for another mission," said Jill, flipping the suit inside out to check the Kevlar lining, "You would think that thing in your head would teach you how to dodge bullets."

Chuck smiled and shrugged.

"Anyway, I'll start working on another one for you. It should be ready in about a week, week and a half tops." Jill handed the suit back to Chuck.

"Thanks, Jill." Chuck placed the suit back into the container.

"No problem," she smiled. "So, I hear Walker's back in town."

Chuck shuddered, and shot a glare in Bryce's direction even though he wouldn't be able to see it. "You know," he began, smirking, "For a secret group of underground freedom fighters, we're REALLY TERRIBLE AT KEEPING SECRETS!" Chuck finished loudly so that Bryce would hear.

"Sorry, buddy!"

Chuck and Jill laughed awkwardly. Once their laughter stopped, he saw her chipping away at her polished nails.

"So…are you going to call her?" she asked, nodding to the phone number that Sarah had written on his arm earlier.

"Probably."

"Do you still have feelings for her?"

Chuck shrugged, "To be honest, Jill, I don't know. It's been ten years since I've seen her…"

"But after you saw her today, some of those feelings came back, didn't they?"

"I don't know," Chuck lied. Of course some of those feelings came back, but he wasn't going to admit that.

"She's CIA."

"You're Fulcrum."

"Yeah, but I'm not really though. I've been working for your father since college, haven't I? You know, acting as his double agent or whatever?" Jill challenged. Chuck gave another shrug. Well, it was true. "Oh, which reminds me; Fulcrum's moving their database tomorrow night. That's one of the other reasons why I came."

"Great," said Chuck. "It makes it easier for me, then. I could just hack into their network, and—"

"Nope," she shook her head, "They're moving it manually. At the loading docks tomorrow night…"

Chuck groaned. "Damn it! If my dad just…_freaking_ listened to me…"

"I'm sure Orion has his reasons," said Jill, "But it gets even more fun. CIA has a mole inside Fulcrum, and they found out about the loading docks. On top of Fulcrum, you're going to have to sneak past the CIA."

Chuck threw his arms down in frustration, and jumped off the table. With purpose, he strode past Jill and made his way into his father's office. His father looked up from the computer monitor in surprise.

"Dad, we need to talk," Chuck said, slamming the door shut. "I was just talking to Jill, and guess what? The plan's changed. Fulcrum's going to ship their data over the loading docks tomorrow night. And guess what? It gets _even_ more fun. On top of looking for the right crate, and breaking into it, and disassembling computers, and taking out the hard drives while Fulcrum agents are shooting at me, the CIA is going to be there too!"

"Charles, I—"

"—want me to get caught?" Chuck demanded.

"No, Charles—"

"Seriously, why don't you ever listen to what I have to say? I _told_ you that we should have broken into Fulcrum first instead of the CIA and NSA compound!"

"If the CIA is going to be there, then that works better for you," said Stephen calmly, "They'll distract each other, giving you enough time to find the right crate, and extract the hard drives. _That's_ why I wanted you to break into the CIA first."

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Chuck let out another groan. "So you were planning on getting people killed?"

"Those spies know what they signed up for."

"Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself? Do you have no sense of morals? First, it was the satellites, and then, because of you, Bryce almost died—"

Stephen slammed his hand onto the table, the noise echoed throughout the room. He pointed a shaking finger at Chuck's face. "You know damn well why I'm doing what I'm doing! You know _why_ we have to do this!"

"Well, you're the one that brought me into this," said Chuck, shaking his head.

"You're the one that volunteered to download the Intersect, Charles."

"And you know why I did it. You know why I agreed to send out those satellites."

"For the same reasons I did!"

"No," Chuck shook his head sadly, and opened the door so that he could leave.

**

* * *

**

**August 25, 2005**

Chuck parked his car on the driveway, and stepped out, whistling a tune. It had been a rough couple of months, what with all of the conventions, the publicity interviews, and the meetings, but he finally accomplished what he wanted. His company signed a multi-billion dollar deal with nearly all of the major computer manufacturers. LEOS was going to surpass Windows…

He fiddled with his keys until he found the house key. Before he was even able to unlock the front door, he heard a rustling from the bushes.

"Hello?"

_What a dumb thing to say. This is why so many people die in horror movies, _he thought.

And then, out of the shadows, he saw the last person he'd thought he'd ever see. His father. But it was all still surprising, and Chuck had let out a high pitched yelp, before he could make out his father's face. His heart still beating rapidly, he breathed out, "Dad?"

"Hello, Charles," said Stephen, smiling.

An unexplainable rage filled Chuck, and he said the first thing anyone would say to their runaway fathers after they had come across a lot of money, "What are you doing here? Do you want money?"

Stephen shook his head. "No, Charles, but I do need you to do me a favor."

"Why would I want to do that?" Chuck glared at his father. The man that had caused him and Ellie so much pain. The man that nearly destroyed their futures. Of course, he and Ellie turned out fine. If anything, after their father's departure, they had gotten closer than they already were.

"In three weeks time, the US government is going to ask you to provide a cellular network for them," said Stephen. "And I think you should sign the contract."

"Legend doesn't even make cell phones." Chuck rolled his eyes. That crazy father of his, always thinking that people were after him. "And how would you even know about the government wanting to ask me to build them a network?"

"Because I told him." Chuck let out another yelp, and jumped back into the front door as he saw his old college roommate seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Bryce Larkin smiled. "Good to see you again, Chuck. Legend Enterprises?" Bryce made one of those sarcastic (I'm about to punch you, but not really, because we're buddies) movements. "I knew you were going to make it big!"

"Bryce?" Chuck couldn't believe his eyes. His old best friend from college, who he hasn't seen since graduation, was standing on his front porch! _What the hell?_ "What…what's going on? Who else is hiding out in my bushes?"

Chuck gazed over at the large bushes and trees surrounding his house. He was going to have to call someone to cut them all down in case Charles Manson or someone scarier, like Tony Robbins, is hiding out there.

But for the most part, Chuck was happy to see Bryce again. Even if the creeper popped out of nowhere like some sort of brown haired, blue-eyed ninja. After all, Bryce was one of his best friends.

"I'm an agent of the CIA," said Bryce, causing Chuck to nearly have a heart attack at the revelation. "I've been with them since we were juniors in Stanford."

"What—how?"

"They recruited me, of course!" Bryce laughed, and clapped Chuck on his shoulder a little too roughly for Chuck's liking. Chuck winced. "But your dad recruited me before they did. Anyway, I leaked false information that your company is building satellites for cell phones, and gave them the schematics of those satellites."

"But…we're not doing anything remotely close to that! We're just writing software! We might make games, and build our own computers, but…you know what? That doesn't matter right now."

"I've made the schematics," said Stephen. "I designed five satellites for your company. Four of them will be used for civilians, and one of them would be used for the government—mostly all of the agencies of the government."

"But _why_?"

"We should talk inside," said Bryce. "Is your sister home?"

"No, Ellie's on call right now."

"Well, can we come in then?"

"Yeah, give me a second." Chuck fumbled with his keys until he found the right one. He unlocked the door, and stepped aside to let Bryce and his father step in. When they did, Chuck flicked on the light switch.

Bryce whistled, as he walked around the large foyer. "Wow, Chuck…you did pretty well for yourself."

Chuck shrugged, feeling stung when his father didn't even seem remotely impressed. Yeah, he was angry with his father, but at the very least, he should have received a pat on the back for what he's accomplished in a short amount of time. "Thanks, Bryce."

"You got anything to drink?" asked Bryce.

"Yeah," Chuck replied. "What do you want?"

"Got any whiskey?"

"Of course," Chuck said happily leading Bryce and Stephen to his game room. Chuck opened up the liquor cabinet. "Let's see…60 year old scotch. It was a gift from Ted Roark."

"Do you have any Johnnie?" asked Bryce.

"Yep."

"I'll just go with that, man, straight up," said Bryce, settling into a large couch.

"One Johnnie Walker, coming right up." Chuck poured a double shot of Johnnie Walker into a glass. He looked over to his father, and added, "Do you want anything?"

"The same."

After filling three glasses, Chuck handed two of them to Bryce and his father.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" Bryce suggested.

"Yeah," Chuck agreed. "So why does the government need new satellites? Don't they have their own carriers?"

"They do but they're compromised," said Bryce. "There are rogue operations calling themselves Fulcrum and the Ring. They have operatives in the CIA, so the CIA wants to set up a new cellular network. They're going to tap into their agents' phones to see who's working for who, and all that other crap."

"That sounds like fun for the CIA, but what does that have to do with me?"

"Bryce and I have our own operation," said Stephen. "And I'm building a super-computer called the Intersect. It's a computer that would hold vital information that we need, and we download the information into a subject's brain—"

"_My_ brain," said Bryce smugly.

"Yes, precisely," said Stephen. Chuck just sat with his mouth hanging open. None of this was making any sense. "Bryce has been able to get me _some_ intel, but we need more."

"Wait…" Chuck held up a hand. "How is any of this even possible? Downloading intel into a person's brain? That…even if that _were_ possible, wouldn't their brains fry?"

"I've developed a new encoding system, molecular encoding. I use a series of images, and inside each of them, there are hundreds of hidden intel," said Stephen.

"Remember Fleming's class, Chuck?" Bryce asked. Chuck nodded in response. "Well, Fleming and your dad went to school together. He's been looking for recruits for your father's Intersect. You and me, well, as far as we know, we're the only two people in the world who'll be able to download the Intersect without it frying our brains. We can retain _a lot_ of information. Luckily for you, you don't have to download the Intersect."

"So you're working for the CIA?" Chuck asked his father.

"No, I work for myself," Stephen replied. "And your mother."

"Mom?" _What the hell?_

"It's time that you know why your mother and I left," said Stephen. He shot down his glass of scotch. "Years ago, your mother was an agent in the CIA. When you were ten years old, your mother left because she found out about a rogue operation. They called themselves the Omega Initiative, and your mother's a double agent. She's fighting them from the inside…"

"Mom was in the CIA?" Chuck asked in disbelief.

"Yes…"

"But…" Chuck didn't know what to say. "How many rogue groups are there?" Chuck asked in disbelief. "Fulcrum, Ring...and now, Omega?"

"Fulcrum and the Ring are a part of Omega," said Bryce, "But they think they're their own operation…"

"What? That doesn't even make sense!" Chuck didn't know why, but he started laughing. This was all some elaborate prank. It had to be…

"Omega started up Fulcrum and the Ring so they could use them to distract the CIA from themselves," said Stephen. "Omega's still the main threat. The CIA just doesn't know that yet."

"How can they not know?"

"Because, Omega has people everywhere, Charles," replied Stephen, "CIA, NSA, Fulcrum, the Ring, the president's cabinet, the Pentagon, FBI, MI6, Interpol. They manipulate people already in those agencies. They threaten them.

"Their main goal is to start a global economical meltdown. After that, people will become desperate and scared…desperate for some sort of help, and scared for their families. That's when Omega makes themselves known. They'll promise the people that they'll fix it. In their fear and desperation, the leaders around the world will elect Omega into full power, creating a worldwide monarchy. It will only go one way: people will want to rebel. So of course, there will most likely to be a worldwide war to try to overthrow Omega. But it'll end with millions or even billions of lives lost."

Okay, this was obviously all a big joke. "What is this, _Star Wars_?" Chuck laughed. "Something like that won't ever happen…"

"It'll happen, Chuck," said Bryce. "If we don't stop it, it's going to happen."

"That's why we need your help, Charles," said Stephen. "We need you to sign the deal with the government, so that we can obtain the intel that we need to find the Architect, Omega's leader."

"But can't Mom find the…the Architect?" asked Chuck, "I mean, if she's in Omega, then she should be able to find them, right?"

"Only a select few know who the Architect is, Mary Bartowski isn't one of them," said Bryce. "But along with the intel we get from the satellites, I'm going to break into other facilities to steal their data. And hopefully, we'll be able to find out who the Architect is."

"But…but…monitoring peoples' calls? That's an invasion of privacy! It's unethical!"

"Chuck, it's only monitoring those who work in the CIA and NSA," said Bryce. "And agents gave up certain rights when we signed up. It's fine. The civilians will have a normal, untapped satellite."

"Won't the government know that you guys are tapped into their system?"

"Seeing as I'm building the satellites," said Stephen, "No. They won't know."

Chuck didn't say anything. This was all _way_ too much information to process all at once. His mother was a spy? She still is? A global totalitarian government and an all out rebellion? Holy sh…

Chuck turned to his father as his father said, "So, Charles…some people are born heroes, and others need to be asked. Are you ready to become a hero?"

**

* * *

**

**Orion's Den**

**September 29, 2007**

Chuck stood in front of the punching bag in front of him, trying not to think about his father so that he could flash. Once he cleared his head, he felt a wave of knowledge in different forms of martial arts rushing into his brain. He began picking and punching the bag. After several minutes, the bag crashed down into the ground.

"Whoa, Chuck," called Bryce's voice from behind him, "Calm down there, killer."

"Damn it," Chuck mumbled as he threw off his gloves. That was the tenth time he had kicked off the punching bag.

"You don't really need to train anymore, you know," said Bryce, wheeling himself over to Chuck. "You've got the flashes down…"

"I know…I'm just…" Chuck sighed, and plopped down on the ground, "It's been a long day, man…"

"I could imagine," said Bryce sympathetically. "You run into your childhood best friend who just happens to be in the CIA, and is most likely looking for the other you. Then you find out the plans for the extraction tomorrow changed, and…that stuff with your dad…"

"I don't know how you forgave him," said Chuck, gesturing to Bryce's wheelchair.

Bryce shrugged. "Sometimes…sacrifice is required," he said, "At least I'm still alive, right? I'm just sorry that…because of what happened, you had to be dragged into all of this…"

"What are you talking about? It's not like you asked that Omega agent to throw you out of a freaking office window!" It was just like Bryce to feel like it was his fault that Chuck had decided to download the Intersect.

"I should have been able to prevent that—"

"The past is the past, man," said Chuck. "It just sucks what happened to you…"

"I'm over it now," smiled Bryce. "So did you call Sarah yet?"

"Yeah," Chuck replied. "We're going out for coffee in the morning."

Bryce nodded.

"So…she really asked about me whenever you worked together?" asked Chuck, perhaps a little too hopefully.

Bryce chuckled and nodded. "Ever since I told her what year I graduated, she asked me if I knew you. I told her we were friends in passing or whatever…you know the story, Chuck."

"Yeah, but," Chuck couldn't hide the smirk that was forming involuntarily on his face, "What did you guys talk about?"

"What are you? A twelve year old girl?" Bryce laughed. "And we didn't talk about much…I was too busy with…"

"Carina?"

"Yep." Bryce's smile faltered a bit. "That's the one thing I do regret though. Having to leave her…" Chuck clapped Bryce on the shoulder, and nodded. "Yeah, but Orion sent me in here to let you know that the update is ready."

"Joy," Chuck deadpanned, getting off the ground. "We still have any aspirin left?"

"Picked some up this morning," Bryce replied. Chuck hopped on the back of Bryce's wheelchair.

"All right, Speed Racer," he laughed, pointing ahead, "Let's go!"

Chuck rode on the back of Bryce's electric wheelchair back to his father's office. When they arrived, Chuck stepped off the wheelchair, and passed his father without a word.

He laid down on a cot. "I'll take it from here."

When his father and Bryce left the office, Chuck took a deep breath. He stared up at the monitors that were plastered up on the ceiling. Exhaling, Chuck grabbed the remote connected to his bed, and pressed a red button. A series of images flashed quickly, and Chuck felt his head growing heavy as the images embedded into his brain.

**

* * *

**

**Penrose Medical Center—Vancouver, British Columbia**

**February 19, 2006**

Chuck got off the elevator on the fourth floor. He walked over to the nurse's station. An elderly nurse smiled up at him.

"Yes?" she asked in a pleasant, but tired voice.

"I'm here to see a…Bruce Leonard?" he said.

"Oh, yes…" the nurse typed away on the computer. "He's in room 434."

"Thank you," Chuck smiled.

"Not a problem, hon," winked the nurse.

His smile faded as he walked down the brightly lit corridor, searching for his friend's room. It seemed like it was only minutes ago when he received a phone call from his father.

"_Bryce has been compromised," his father had said, "Omega agents found him in his apartment, and threw him out of the window. He's still alive. Go to Penrose Medical in Stanford, Connecticut. Arrange for him to get back to Encino as soon as possible."_

Chuck wasn't even able to get a word in before his father hung up on him.

He stopped when he reached room 434. He winced when he saw Bryce. His body wrapped in a cast. His face swollen and covered in bruises. Chuck felt his heart wrench for his friend.

The door was open, but he knocked on the doorframe anyway. "Hey, Bryce," he called softly.

"Come in, Chuck," came Bryce's muffled reply.

Chuck stepped into the room. The monitors beeped. The oxygen tank behind Bryce hummed. He walked over to the chair by Bryce's bedside and sat down. Although he should, he wasn't able to look at Bryce. He was scared to see his once jovial, energetic friend unable to move because of all of the plaster that covered his body…

"Broken spine," said Bryce bitterly. "Probably won't be able to walk again…"

"Christ…" Chuck mumbled, feeling terrible.

"I didn't tell Omega about you," said Bryce. "Or Orion…or Jill. They don't know where you guys are or what you even look like. The secret's still safe."

"How did they find out about you?"

"I got caught," Bryce said simply. "I found Daniel Shaw a couple of nights ago. I flashed on him and saw that he was in the Ring and Omega. So I chased him for awhile. I asked him where the Architect was. We were in an alley, and he wouldn't tell me anything. Just as I was about to shoot him, the fucking cops came. Shaw got away."

Bryce took a deep breath.

"Anyway," Bryce continued, "I was at home. I guess Shaw found out where I lived somehow, and he broke in. Beat the shit out of me. Kept asking me how I knew about Omega, and I didn't tell him anything. So he threw me out the window."

"Does he know you're still alive?"

"No. I was technically dead for about five minutes before the paramedics came."

"Well…he's going to know soon enough, won't he?" asked Chuck, pouring water into a cup, placing a straw inside and handing it to Bryce.

"No," said Bryce. "The CIA sent Carina and Sarah after him shortly after. They got him."

"Good riddance…" Chuck mumbled. "So the CIA, they still have no knowledge of Omega?"

"They don't. Like I said, Shaw was also in the Ring, so that's what the CIA thinks."

Chuck nodded. "Wouldn't it help us if the CIA knew about them? Omega?"

"No. There are too many Omega operatives on the inside," Bryce replied. "You know how they work, man. Omega manipulates people into joining them. At my count, there are at least five deputy directors in the CIA that Omega manipulated into working for them. But anyway, you just missed them."

"Missed who?"

"Carina and Sarah."

"They were here?"

"They came to say goodbye. I'm no longer an agent, Chuck. I talked to Director Graham, and asked him to make it so that Bryce Larkin is dead. All my records in the CIA were destroyed."

"But, Bryce…"

"It's the only way. If Omega gets word that I'm still alive, then they'll try to find me again," said Bryce. "It's fine. This way, you, your dad, Jill, and me are all safe."

"So if your records were destroyed, then what does that leave you with?"

"A new name, Bruce Leonard, and a severance package."

"You and Carina…?"

"We can't see each other anymore," said Bryce. For the first time since Chuck got here, he heard the sadness in his friend's voice.

"What do you mean you can't see each other anymore?" Chuck inquired, "You guys are—"

"It was upon Graham's insistence. It's for my protection and hers," said Bryce sourly. "Look at it like this, Chuck, if the Ring or Fulcrum or Omega find out that I'm still alive and…having a relationship with a CIA agent, then they'll be able to use Carina to get to me. If they get me, then they'll use her again to get information out of me. And while I won't ever compromise our team, I know I won't be able to live with myself if anything happened to Carina on my account…"

"You don't have to be on the team anymore, Bryce," Chuck insisted. "You've done enough!"

"As long as I'm still breathing, I'm going to do my part for the team. I won't be able to do much, but, damn it, I have to do something. There's nothing left for me anymore." Chuck saw that tears were forming in Bryce's eyes. "You know…you're the only _real_ friend I have in this world? Pretty pathetic, right?"

For a long time, neither man said anything. Chuck sat by Bryce's bedside, his fingers and jaws clenched in anger and sadness. The sacrifices that Bryce had made for his country. The years Bryce spent putting his life on the line to protect the millions of faceless people that can never know what Bryce had done for them. _The things they make you give…_

"I wish you could have met her, Chuck," said Bryce, his voice shaking as tears streamed from his eyes. "It would have meant…it would have meant a lot to me if you…liked her."

"I would have liked her, Bryce. I'm pretty sure she's a special girl if she was able to put a stop to your man-whoring."

Bryce let out a laugh, and immediately, he began to cough. "I'm tired, Chuck…"

"Yeah. I know." Chuck stood up, and laid a hand gently on Bryce's shoulder. "Thanks for everything that you've done to protect us."

When Chuck got to his hotel room, an hour later, he took his phone out of his pocket and dialed his father's number.

"_Orion, secure."_

"Yeah, whatever, I'm secure too," snapped Chuck. "Dad, Bryce is paralyzed from the hip down. I'll be able to get him transported to Encino by tomorrow afternoon."

"_Understood."_

"And Dad? Is the 2.0 ready?"

"_Why?_"

"Because when it is, I'm going to download it."

"_I'm not going to let you do that, Charles! It's too dangerous—Fleming's got a few candidates that will be able to—"_

"No," Chuck said firmly, "Bryce was paralyzed because he was protecting us. I can't let you bring in another person. I _have_ to do this—and I will."

"_I don't want you to be a part of this, Charles! I won't let you!_"

"I was a part of this ever since you made contact with me. I'm going to download it. There is no point in bringing some random kid into the team and endangering their life, and explaining everything to them when I'm fully capable of handling the Intersect."

**

* * *

**

**September 30, 2007**

Just as Chuck was about to leave through the front door of his and Ellie's house (he hated calling it a mansion…or an estate for that matter), Ellie walked in. She had worked the night shift at the hospital last night, and Chuck noticed that she had bags under her eyes. He felt Ellie's eyes scanning his hopefully casual in a 'No, I didn't spend forty minutes trying on different shirts and pants' outfit.

"You got a day date, Chuck?" asked Ellie, smirking at her brother.

"Why would you think I have a date?" Chuck asked lamely. He knew that Ellie probably knew him better than he even knew himself. In fact, he's surprised every day that he was able to keep Ellie in the dark about Operation Orion.

Ellie sniffed the air. "Three sprays of cologne means you're going on a date." Ellie smiled triumphantly as Chuck's poker face failed him.

Chuck smiled guiltily. "You got me, sis."

"Ha! You can't keep anything from your older sister," she chuckled.

Chuck made a movement toward the door. "Yep, well, I gotta get going—"

Ellie grabbed onto Chuck's arm. "So who's the lucky lady? Anyone that I might know?"

A cough escaped Chuck, and he quickly cleared his throat. Was it okay to tell Ellie that Sarah was in town? Was it actually safe to expose Ellie to a _spy_? But what if Sarah wanted to see Ellie, and he tells her that he didn't tell Ellie that she was in town, and then her feelings get hurt because he didn't tell Ellie about her? Oh, this damned life of his…

"Um…I uh…Sarah's in town," he spat it out, and immediately regretted it. Ellie's mouth spread into the widest grin he had ever seen.

"Sarah Walker?" she cried. "Oh my gosh! She's in town? We haven't seen her in _ages_!"

"Yep…"

"Remember how you guys used to fall asleep together on the couch after eating too much junk food and watching _The Goonies_ over, and over, and over? It was _so_ cute!" Ellie reminisced. She clapped her hands together happily. "What about the time you guys learned how to dance like the New Kids for the talent show? That was freaking adorable! And, and, and—"

"Okay, Ellie, I got it!" Chuck cried, holding his hands out in front of him to calm his sister down from squee-mode.

"When did she get in? How did you guys meet?"

"Uh…she came in yesterday, I think. I was at the BuyMore with Morgan, and she was at the Nerd Herd help desk. I ran into her there," Chuck replied.

"Oh! Remember how you would always wait by the mailbox to see if she would write? It was so sad, but so cute…you _loved_ her…"

"It _was_ sad," said Chuck, smiling coyly. "Thanks for bringing that up again…"

Ellie's face fell. "I'm sorry, Chuck…I know it was hard for you, but her dad wanted to leave, you know? It's not like—"

"It's been forever, Elle," Chuck smiled. "I'm over it. I'm just happy that I get the chance to catch up with her, you know?"

Ellie nodded, and she got a look in her face. Chuck knew that look very well, and braced himself. "You should invite her over! We could all have an early dinner…I could make some lasagna, and we could all catch up! I miss her too, you know."

"Yeah," said Chuck. _Is it a good idea to bring a spy over? Well, if she wanted to, she could just find out where he lived with a couple of quick clicks with a mouse. I don't think I have any Osiris gear, or anything in here…I should have double checked._ "I'll ask her if she wants to come over."

"Yay!"

"But we can't stay long," said Chuck, remembering his mission later tonight.

"Why?"

"I…" Chuck began. What excuse was he going to use this time? "I actually have to…go to a party." Ellie raised an eyebrow at him.

"A party?" she asked skeptically.

"Yep…you know how it is," Chuck laughed, shrugging. "I gotta go to all those lame launch parties."

"What are you launching?"

"Oh, it's not one of mine," said Chuck. "It's…I don't even know who. My assistant just tells me where to go, and so I do."

Chuck offered his sister a lame smile.

"Well, okay, then," said Ellie. "You should ask Sarah if she wants to go!"

"Um…she starts her new job tomorrow," Chuck remembered. "So I don't want to like…guilt trip her into it or anything, you know?"

"Yeah…well, have fun! Call me if you're bringing her over!"

Even on a Sunday, LA traffic was the worst. He was about twenty minutes late to the coffee shop. He quickly scanned the—overly decorated to the point where there was barely enough room for the patrons to sit—shop, and felt his heart drop when Sarah wasn't there. Maybe she left? He should have called her; let her know that he was running late because of traffic.

Or maybe she too was running late because of traffic? He let out a huff of air, and took a seat at the first empty table he saw. Not too long after he sat down, a barista approached him.

"Sir, you can't sit there unless you're a patron," said the barista. Chuck looked up, and saw a young man, most likely a college student, with a glazed look in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Chuck. "Um…I'm meeting someone…uh…just a tall, drip for me, and two chocolate croissants, please."

"Is that for here or to go?" the boy groaned.

"Didn't I just say that I was meeting—for here, please."

"You're going to eat two chocolate croissants by yourself?"

"I'm _meeting_ someone…"

"Whatever," said the barista, walking away. A few minutes later, the barista came back with two chocolate croissants and a cup of black coffee. "We usually don't actually bring coffee to the table. I wanted to spit in your cup, but I didn't…"

"Oh, well…I'm sorry, and thank you?" Chuck offered. The boy rolled his eyes. Chuck handed him a twenty. "You can keep the change. For your trouble."

The boy sighed, "Whatever, dude…"

Chuckling to himself, Chuck stared down at his coffee. For some reason, the barista's rude behavior reminded him of one of the few pieces of advice he had received from his father when he was a boy: _The key to good business is customer service. You want your customers to leave happy. That way, they'll come back. Remember, son, 'Please' and 'thank you' go a long way._

**

* * *

**

**July 13, 1986 (Age Five )**

Chuck and Sarah sat in his living room. Markers were strewn all over the floor as they began tearing a cardboard box down. Both Chuck and Sarah wanted new bikes, but their parents told them that they were too expensive. Sarah came up with the brilliant idea of making a lemonade stand. _"We can make at least…_TEN_ dollars!"_ she had cried happily after she suggested it. "_That can get us like…four bikes!_"

They began to laugh when they were finally able to flatten the box. Sarah handed Chuck a black marker.

"Okay, you write out 'lemonade,' and I'll start drawing the lemons!" she cried, already setting out to work. Chuck stared at the marker. They ran into their first speed bump—he didn't know how to spell 'lemonade.' Sarah looked up at him when she noticed that he wasn't doing anything. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know how to spell 'lemonade,'" Chuck admitted. Sarah looked at him thoughtfully, and back down to the piece of cardboard. She bit her bottom lip.

"Uh…we'll sound it out," she suggested.

Chuck stuck his tongue out slightly, as he uncapped the marker. "It starts with an L…" he drew a large, backwards L onto the cardboard.

"Uh-huh…and there's an 'em' sound…uh…'em…'" Sarah bit down on the cap of her marker, and squinted her eyes in concentration. "I think there's an I after the L."

"You're right!" Chuck cried, drawing out a shaky, vertical line.

"Then an 'M.'"

Chuck drew the M out. "What comes after the M? Lemonade…_lem-on-ade …_"

"And then…an N…"

"After that, there's an A. I remember seeing an A on Betty's stand…"

"Okay…A…and then there's a D and one of those silent E's, right?"

"Uh-huh…"

Chuck drew out a D, but paused when he came to the E.

"What does a silent E look like?" he wondered. Sarah took the marker from his hand.

"I think it looks like this." She drew a lower-case, backwards E onto the cardboard.

The children leaned back to admire their work. LIMNADE.

"Looks good," Chuck said.

"Yep! I'll take this outside, you bring out the sugar, okay?" Sarah grabbed the sign off of the ground, and ran out of the front door.

Chuck jumped up to his feet, and ran into the kitchen. He pulled a chair from the smaller kitchen table, and placed it in front of the spice rack. Chuck climbed up on the chair. There were two glass jars, both filled with white powder, and he grabbed the one on the left. Hopping off the chair, Chuck ran out to his front yard where Sarah was propping up the sign they had just made against the table.

"Mommy told me that we just needed to add the sugar," said Sarah, taking the jar from Chuck's hand, she began to pour the powder into a large jug filled with lemonade and ice. "And we have to stir."

Chuck nodded, and grabbed the wooden spoon that had been laying on the table. He stirred the mixture, and gave another satisfied nod. "Okay, we're ready."

And so, the two children waited. They waited some more. A little more. Then Sarah stomped down on the ground in frustration.

"No one's coming!" she cried.

"Maybe…" Chuck began to think. "Oh! We should shout that we have lemonade!"

"Shout?"

"Yeah, like this," Chuck took in a deep breath, and then he bellowed as loudly as he could, "LEMONADE! LEMONADE! RIGHT HERE! LEMONADE!"

Sarah giggled, and followed suit.

"LEMONADE!"

"LEMONADE!"

Finally, after days (it seemed like days, in all actuality, it was thirty seconds later), Stephen approached the two children, and gave them a smile.

"Did I hear you two were selling lemonade today?" he asked. The children nodded. "Well, I would love a cup of ice cold lemonade, please."

Chuck poured a cup of lemonade, and handed it to his father. "Five cents."

"Charles…" his father scolded. "The key to good business is customer service. You want your customers to leave happy. That way, they'll come back. Remember, son, 'Please' and 'thank you' go a long way."

"Oh…"

"We're sorry," Sarah chimed in. "Thank you _so_ much for buying our lemonade! Please, we hope you enjoy it! Please!"

Stephen chuckled, and handed the children a nickel. "Thank you very much, and I'm sure I'll enjoy it." He took a sip, and he fought to keep his face from scrunching up. Recovering quickly, he patted his stomach. "That is some good lemonade, kids!"

"Thanks, Dad! We can give you one more!"

"Oh, uh…I'll just come back later when I get thirsty again," said Stephen, clearing his throat. "Well, kids, good luck today, okay?"

"Okay! Thank you!" Sarah cried, waving happily.

Over the next hour, Chuck and Sarah had five more customers. Happy that they were going to be rich, neither Chuck nor Sarah realized that they had poured salt into the lemonade mix.

**

* * *

**

**September 30, 2007**

Staring warily at his possible spit-filled cup of coffee, Chuck stood to toss it in the garbage. He'd just have to order another one. As he turned to head to the bar, he saw the most beautiful thing he had ever seen: Sarah standing in front of the entrance to the shop, her blonde hair was styled in loose curls, her bright blue eyes shining brighter as she scanned the little coffee shop, and it was all topped off with a casual, light blue sundress.

It was hard to believe that someone who looked…so _beautiful_, yet so innocent can be a spy. He wanted to shout out to her, but he couldn't, when she took his breath away as she bit her bottom lip and bounced up on her toes a bit while she gave the shop another once over. She was just so…gah…_cute_.

"Sah—" his breath caught in his throat, so he quickly cleared it. "Sarah!"

Chuck watched as Sarah's eyes snapped over to him, and she smiled apologetically as she walked over to him. She had a bounce in her step as she gave him a wave.

"Sorry that I'm late," she said when she reached him. "I got a call from my bosses, and it went on _way_ too long…"

Chuck waved off the apology. "It's fine…I just got here like five minutes ago. LA traffic is the worst…"

"Yeah, for sure…um…" Sarah smiled bashfully up at Chuck. As she leaned her face toward his, to give him a quick peck on the cheek, Chuck held his arms out, and reached for a hug. They both stepped back, and let out nervous chuckles. Sarah recovered first, and went in for a hug. "Sorry I'm late," Sarah repeated.

"Oh, no," Chuck once again waved off the apology. "It's fine."

"Yeah, so…uh…" Sarah brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Chuck thought he could see her blushing, but she had her face down, so he couldn't be sure.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Chuck asked, gesturing to the table he was just sitting at. "I got you a chocolate croissant…I thought you'd like it, because…well, who doesn't love chocolate?"

"Uh…yeah…I'm allergic to chocolate…" Sarah looked up at Chuck with a serious expression on her face. Chuck's face fell.

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry…I shouldn't have ordered something before you—" he stopped when Sarah grinned widely at him. "—got here," he finished, and smiled, catching onto Sarah's joke. "Allergic to chocolate…that's a good one…"

Sarah began to giggle. "Ohh…I got you, didn't I?"

"Indeed you did. Well played, ma'am," he chuckled. "But yeah, why don't you have a seat, and I'll get you something to drink…"

"I can get the coffee, Chuck," she insisted. "Besides, you saved me probably around twenty bucks yesterday—"

"Seriously, Sarah, it's fine," said Chuck, smiling. "I _want_ to buy you a cup…"

"Fine, but next time we go out, it's on me. Deal?"

Chuck felt his face warm. "Deal."

Minutes later, Chuck set down a paper cup filled with chai tea in front of Sarah, who was picking off tiny pieces of her croissant and popping them into her mouth, and sat down.

"So, uh…what have you been up to?" he asked, tearing his own croissant in half. "You know, since we last saw each other?"

"Let's see," said Sarah, "Uh…went to Harvard…"

"Awesome…" Chuck nodded.

"Studied business…"

"Boring," he said jokingly, grinning. Sarah shrugged.

"It was, but I really didn't know what else I wanted to do," she said, smiling.

"I always figured you would be like…the next Mia Hamm or something," Chuck laughed, "A bad ass soccer player, you know? Or maybe you could have been the woman who actually makes the WNBA worth watching."

Sarah laughed, and shook her head. "Oh, man…I was actually on the soccer team at Harvard."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, only in my freshman year though," she said, shrugging. "I wasn't very good…"

"I find that hard to believe." Chuck took a sip of his coffee. "If I remember correctly, Sarah Walker was the best center forward in the Encino Parks and Recreation league…"

"That was when we were like nine," Sarah scoffed, grinning.

"I'm just saying, you were the natural athlete out of the two of us," said Chuck, "And I was the nerdy one."

"You weren't _that_ nerdy," said Sarah. Chuck gave her a deadpan look. "Okay, let me rephrase, you _were_ a nerd, but you were the lovable nerd."

Chuck shrugged.

"Seriously," Sarah insisted, "remember the other nerdy kids? They always got shoved into lockers and stuff, but you never got shoved into a locker."

"That was because if anyone shoved me into a locker, they knew that you would kick their butts," Chuck laughed. "After you left, you would not believe how many kids shoved me into my locker."

Still chuckling, Chuck looked up from his croissant, and saw that Sarah's smile had faded. There was a look of sadness in her eyes. "Is that true?"

Upon seeing the look on Sarah's face, Chuck immediately regretted saying that. He meant it in jest, but that damn look on her face was enough to make his heart shatter.

"It was a joke," he said, smiling up at her. But Sarah had a stern look on her face. The same look that was able to extract any information from him when they were children. "Okay, so I got shoved into my locker a couple of times," he admitted, "But it's really not a big deal! If anything, it helped me deal with my claustrophobia, and if it makes you feel any better, the guys that shoved me into my locker work as janitors for my company! One of them likes to solve math problems on the white boards…"

Chuck stared hopefully at Sarah, waiting for her to crack a smile. He was relieved when a hint of a smile formed on her face.

"So…uh…what have you been doing before you came here?" Chuck asked, swirling his half empty cup around, forgetting that he was talking to a spy. Sarah shrugged.

"After I got my degree in business, I started working as a market researcher for a small toy company in Boston," she replied. "Worked there for a couple of years, I moved up to assistant manager, and then we went under."

"Yikes, I'm sorry…"

Sarah shook her head. "It's not your fault. Kids these days and their damn videogames…"

"Hey!" Chuck playfully frowned, "Don't knock on videogames, Sarah. They didn't do anything to hurt you."

Sarah laughed. "They made me lose my job…"

"Touché," he chuckled. "My bad…but at least you have a new job now, right?"

"Indeed," Sarah agreed.

"Speaking of which, how did apartment hunting go?"

"Oh, uh…when I got this job, I thought it was going to be permanent," she replied, "But I got an email from my bosses yesterday, telling me that it's only a temporary gig until they find a permanent manager."

"Oh...how come?"

_Because she thinks she'll find Osiris_, he answered himself silently.

"I work for a company in New York called ESI, Emerson Security Industries, and they bought a small subsidiary," Sarah explained. "I think it's called Langman Electronic Security or something like that. To be honest, I can't remember."

Chuck laughed.

"Anyway, ESI wanted me to be an office manager for the LA branch, but now, they say the job is beneath me," she said, shrugging. "So I'm only going to be acting manager of LES till they find a suitable replacement."

"How long do you think that'll take?"

"I don't know," Sarah replied, finishing off her croissant, and wiping her hands on a napkin. "It could be in a couple of weeks, months…I don't think I'd have to stay for more than a year."

"I see," said Chuck, thinking that Sarah was definitely going to stay around longer than a year. There's no way she'd be able to catch him…

"But I might stay if…" Sarah didn't finish her statement. Instead, she began to cough. A little theatrically, Chuck noticed. Either way, for some odd reason, he felt lighter…

"You okay there?" he asked.

"Yeah, fine," she gasped, again theatrically, waving a hand. "So um…how's Ellie doing?"

"Ellie's good actually," Chuck replied, a little disappointed that Sarah didn't finish her previous statement. "She's dating an awesome guy. It's a little sad though…"

"Do you not like him?"

"Oh, no…like I said, the guy's awesome," said Chuck laughing. "Ellie's thinking about moving out, and I don't know…I'm just used to having her around. After my parents left, Ellie did a lot to take care of me, and…you know..."

Sarah nodded understandingly.

"But I'm just being a baby," he laughed.

"No, it's understandable, Chuck…"

He shrugged, and drank the rest of his coffee. "So I told Ellie that you were in town, and she wanted to know if you wanted to swing by the house for a bit…if you don't want to, it's fine, but yeah…"

"Sure," said Sarah, "I can't stay long though. First day of work is tomorrow…I need to get some stuff ready. But I could probably just swing by and say 'hi' to Ellie for a bit."

"Excellent," Chuck smiled, getting up from his chair. Sarah mimicked him, and they walked side by side out of the coffee house.

"Excuse me," said Sarah politely. Chuck looked over to see that she had bumped into someone standing in line to get their coffee. Sarah bumped into…

"Jill?" he asked, staring at his teammate who was standing next to some guy. Chuck felt a flash coming.

_**A humpback whale**_

_**Christopher Andrew Scott**_

_**DOB: 6/16/1985**_

_**Fulcrum Field Agent**_

_**A humpback whale**_

Chuck winced as he felt a tiny migraine.

"Oh, hey, Chuck," Jill smiled, widening her eyes a bit. He could tell that she was trying to say, "What the hell are you doing here?" But honestly, he could have asked her the same question. At least she knew that _he_ had a coffee date…granted there were a million Starbucks on this block alone.

Sarah glanced over at Jill, and then back at Chuck.

"Oh!" Chuck cried, "Sarah, this is my old friend, Jill Roberts. We went to Stanford together, and she runs the pharmaceutical department at Legends. And Jill, this is Sarah Walker…my…uh…friend." He finished lamely.

"Hi," said Sarah, almost icily, shaking Jill's hand.

"Nice to meet you," said Jill, looking a little nervous.

Sarah gave Jill a tightlipped smile in response, and there were a couple awkward minutes of silence.

"Well…Sarah and I are going to go," said Chuck, nodding to the male Fulcrum agent. "Take it easy, you two!"

After saying hasty goodbyes to Jill and that other Fulcrum agent, Chuck and Sarah went outside of the coffee shop.

"So…uh…where did you park?" he asked.

"What?" asked Sarah, looking slightly distracted.

"Your car?"

"Oh, I walked here," said Sarah, pointing down the street, behind Chuck. "I'm staying at that hotel down the street."

"Oh, cool beans…" _Cool beans? Really, Chuck?_

"Yeah, I guess…should I get my car, and meet you at your place, or…?"

"I could give you a ride there and back," said Chuck. "That's not a problem."

"Are you sure?"

"Like I said, 'not a problem," Chuck smiled.

Sarah nodded. "Okay, then."

They began to walk down the street where Chuck had parked his car. As they got closer, Chuck took his keys out of his pocket.

"So you and Jill went to Stanford?" asked Sarah.

"Yep," Chuck replied. He looked over at Sarah looking as though she had more questions. To spare her, Chuck said, "We used to date, but it wasn't going to go anywhere."

"Oh! I know how that goes…" Chuck noticed that Sarah now had a certain spring to her steps.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah…I used to date this guy at Harvard," said Sarah. "His name was Wally, and wow…"

"What?"

Sarah laughed. "I met him at the gym, and so when we started dating, we used to hit the gym a lot. For some reason, he _really_ wanted me to lift weights. He'd stand in front of me while I was doing leg curls or whatever, yelling at me, '_pump it! Pump it, Sarah! Puh-push it!_' Eventually, I started to get these hideous man arms…and we broke up." Sarah smiled up at Chuck, and gave him a happy shrug, while he laughed.

"Wow…" he sighed, still chuckling.

"He ended up getting expelled when they found steroids in his room," Sarah giggled.

"Are you serious?" Chuck asked, laughing harder.

Sarah nodded.

**

* * *

**

**Two and a half Hours Later-Orion's Den**

Chuck squeezed into the tight armor, as Jill walked by.

"Jill!" he called. Jill turned to face him.

"I didn't follow you to the coffee shop," she said quickly.

"What are you—I wasn't…" Chuck shook his head. "No, I was just going to tell you, I think Sarah made you as Fulcrum today."

"No she didn't," Jill laughed.

"Well, why else would she have given you the stink-eye?" asked Chuck, taking a shirt off its hanger.

"Uh…maybe because you introduced me as 'an old friend from Stanford?'" she suggested. "Us girls know that 75% of the time, a guy introducing his date to another woman by saying that they're an 'old friend' is code for 'my ex-girlfriend.'"

"Why would Sarah be bothered that you're my ex? I told her that you were after we left the coffee shop." Chuck pulled a pair of slacks over his suit.

"Are you blind, Chuck?" Jill snorted.

"What?"

"Did you not see how Sarah was looking at you?" She rolled her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Chuck asked, tying his necktie. He pulled on his wrist computer over his shirt.

"She's clearly into you…CIA or not, no girl can fake a look like that," said Jill.

As Chuck pulled on his raincoat, and grabbed his mask, he smiled to himself.

"If you say so…" he said, pulling his mask over his face. The mask left his mouth exposed, and he gave Jill a frown. "But just in case the CIA is onto you, be sure to watch your back, Jill."

"I know, I know," said Jill, rolling her eyes once more.

**

* * *

**

**Thirty Minutes Earlier—Casey's Penthouse**

Sarah walked furiously into Casey's penthouse, and threw her purse down to the ground. Everything was going fine. Sure there were a couple of speed bumps here and there, but for the most part, everything went well. And she didn't even have to lie to Chuck _too_ much. Yes, she had to lie about her job, and she had actually met Wally at the Farm, but…other than that, she was honest. And honesty is really difficult for Sarah.

Seeing Ellie again went well too! They caught up, they laughed, they reminisced over old times, and they both teased Chuck a bit, but not too much to actually hurt his feelings. And Chuck's house? Holy crap…Sarah had been in mansions before, but Chuck's was something else. It was elegant, but _homey_, but it was also so…_him_. Instead of those picture books on his coffee table, Chuck laid out gaming magazines and some issues of _Justice League_…

And even when Chuck drove her back, they had a good time. They shared some more laughs, and they even playfully flirted.

So why the hell didn't he give her a kiss goodbye?

_**Ten Minutes Earlier**_

"_So that wasn't too awkward, was it?" Chuck asked as he drove Sarah back to her hotel._

"_No, it wasn't," she replied. "Well, there was the part where Ellie found the old videos of us practicing the New Kids dance moves…but other than that, it was fine."_

_Chuck laughed. "I don't know how Ellie finds those things."_

_Sarah giggled. "You know, I have to tell you something."_

"_What's that?"_

"_I'm actually surprised that you don't have one of those…computer butler thingies that you see in movies," she laughed. "I totally thought you would have a computerized butler for your house."_

"_Well…I actually designed one," Chuck admitted._

"_Really?"_

_Chuck laughed. "No."_

_She playfully smacked his shoulder. "Jerk, I believed you!" That just made him laugh even harder. _

_They rode in a comfortable silence. Sarah just enjoyed feeling…_alive_ again. The last time she felt so alive was when she and Chuck used to sneak out of their hotel rooms at night. Well, there was also that day where she had to parachute on top of a roof top to take out some Saudi terrorists, but that was a different feeling._

_She jolted slightly as Chuck parked his car. _

_Before she knew it, they were already in front of her hotel. She wanted to suggest that maybe they could go to the Pier or something, but she knew that she had a mission tonight._

"_I was just wondering," Chuck began, "Uh, in honor of your new job, even though it's only temporary, would you like to go out for dinner tomorrow night? You know…to celebrate?"_

_Sarah had smiled so much today that her cheeks hurt. "I'd like that. Pick me up at six?"_

"_Okay, then…uh…let me get your door." Before she could protest, Chuck had already gotten out of the car, and was jogging around to open her door. Sarah stepped out of the car, and smiled up at Chuck once more._

"_Today was really nice," she said softly._

"_I agree..." Chuck kicked a pebble on the ground to the side._

_Sarah looked up at Chuck expectantly. _Okay, Walker,_ she told herself, _Just wait a bit, and he'll kiss you. Patience…

_Chuck's eyes were locked onto hers, and she felt her heart beginning to beat faster. _

"_So," Chuck blinked away, looking at his watch. "I should get going."_

What? Are you serious, Chuck?

"_I'll see you tomorrow night," he said, giving Sarah a quick hug._

"Stupid!" Sarah kicked a bookshelf, causing Casey's Reagan statue to fall to the ground.

"Mr. President!" Casey yelled, rushing over from his desk. Sarah didn't even bother to laugh as Casey inspected the bronze statue for damage. "What the hell, Walker?"

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, still fuming. Maybe Chuck has a girlfriend? She never really specifically asked him if he had a girlfriend. Maybe he's just not into her?

"What's crawled up your ass?" Casey asked, snapping Sarah back to reality as she saw him placing the statue back on top of the shelf.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Nope," he replied, walking back over to his desk. "You know I could give a shit about your lady-feelings."

"Heh…" Sarah huffed, following Casey.

"So we gotta hit up the docks tonight," said Casey. "Beckman says that Fulcrum's shipping their computers to their new headquarters. Probably a chance that that masked freak will be there…"

_Fulcrum…_

Sarah pushed Casey aside, and sat in front of his computer.

"What are you doing?"

"Sending Graham an email," she replied. "Chuck ran into his ex, and I'm pretty positive that I saw her with a Fulcrum agent…I remember seeing him a couple of months ago…"

"So?"

"Chuck's ex also works for him," Sarah replied. "Which means if she's Fulcrum, then Fulcrum may be trying to get something from him…I'm going to ask Graham to run a background check on her."

**

* * *

**

**A/N:** Can you guess where this is going to lead? I can tell you that there will be some exciting stuff in the next chapter. Even though it'll only be the third chapter, it'll be a (as Fedak and Schwartz like to put it) gamechanger.

I don't know if I did a good job showing it, but I tried to make Chuck wary of Sarah one minute, and head over heels for her the next…I thought it would be…I don't know…funny if Sarah was the one who knew what she wanted and Chuck was the one that was slightly confused about what he wanted, only because Sarah's CIA.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and I've included a short timeline about Operation Orion. Do you have to read it? Well, not really, but it does explain when Bryce and Jill got recruited by Orion, and why Chuck wears something over his armor.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are like hugs, and I haven't been getting too many real hugs lately because I'm sick! :-(

* * *

**Operation Orion Timeline**

**1994-**Mary Bartowski makes contact with Stephen. Informs him about Omega. Stephen begins working on a beta version of the Intersect, and adopts the name Orion

**1995-**Mary warns Stephen that Omega has heard chatter that someone is building a super computer that is able to download intel into a human mind. While Omega's not sure who Orion exactly is, to protect his children, Stephen runs away.

**1997-**Stephen discovers that if anyone _were_ to download Intersect beta, their brain would overload. He makes contact with old college friend George Fleming, who teaches Stephen how to make embedded images. Stephen gathers all the data he has, and compresses them into hundreds of images (sort of like a Zip file), and begins work on Intersect 1.0. Stephen then asks Fleming to conduct a test on his students so that he could find a subject for Intersect download.

**2001**-Chuck and Bryce take Fleming's class. Chuck scores a 98% on the subliminal imaging exam, while Bryce scores 95%. Stephen recruits Bryce, and informs him that, through the data he collected, the CIA will recruit Bryce in 2002. Bryce is skeptical…

**2002**-When Bryce is recruited into the CIA; he learns that Orion wasn't lying. Stephen tells Bryce (Orion Codename: Cygnus) about Omega and their plans, and Bryce becomes Orion's double agent in the CIA. Later, while watching out for his son, Stephen notices that Chuck's girlfriend, Jill Roberts, is about to be recruited by Fulcrum. To protect his son from getting hurt, Stephen informs Jill that Fulcrum is a rogue government operation. After talking to Bryce, Jill decides to join both Operation Orion and Fulcrum as well, with the intention of helping Orion by providing him intel about Fulcrum. Chuck, Bryce and Jill (Orion Codename: Athena) graduate Stanford.

**2003-**Chuck breaks up with Jill when he decides that the two of them have too much in common, and starts up Legend and Jill both collect enough secrets from their agencies, and Intersect 1.0 is complete. Bryce downloads the Intersect. On Bryce's first mission for Orion, he finds, and interrogates an Omega operative. After learning the operative wasn't going to talk, Bryce shoots him.

**2004-**The CIA discovers that the Ring and Fulcrum have operatives planted within the agency, and they plan on issuing tapped cell phones to their employees. However, they discover that their network is compromised, and they need a new one. After hearing about this, Stephen has Bryce inform Director Graham that Legend Enterprises are currently building satellites for cellular telecommunication networks. Stephen plans on gathering additional data for the Intersect through these satellites.

**2005-**Stephen and Bryce make contact with Chuck. Sometime in November, Chuck signs a contract with the CIA and the NSA, and Legends Enterprises branched out to telecommunications. Stephen begins to work on Intersect 2.0, which will allow the human subject to download many different skills: martial arts, foreign languages, computer hacking, code breaking, gymnastic skills, etc. Chuck's adopts Osiris as his Orion Codename.

**2006-**While out on a mission for the CIA in Vancouver, Bryce flashes on Daniel Shaw, originally believed to be a Ring operative, but is also a member of Omega. Bryce pursues Shaw, and overpowers him. Bryce tries to learn about the Architect's location, but Shaw didn't know. Just as he was about to shoot Shaw, local authorities distracted him, allowing Shaw to run. Shaw discovers Bryce's location, and attempts to interrogate Bryce about how he knows about Omega. Bryce says nothing, and in his frustration, Shaw throws Bryce out of a four story window. Bryce survives the fall, but his spine was crushed on impact, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. Director Graham informs Bryce that all of his records were destroyed, and Bryce is released from the CIA with the new identity, Bruce Leonard. Bryce breaks up with Carina upon hearing this (for her protection, and the protection of those in Operation Orion).

Stephen planned on getting a new subject for the Intersect, but Chuck wouldn't allow that to happen, so he downloaded the 2.0 instead. Chuck invites Bryce to live with him and his sister. Bryce declines and lives inside Orion's Den in Encino.

Before the Intersect 2.0 was completed, Jill, worried about Chuck's safety, began work on perfecting a military experiment called liquid armor. After six months of research, Jill finally perfects it. The armor is lightweight (15 pounds), and allows the wearer to be flexible.

As Chuck felt "_exposed down there_" due to the armor's tightness, he insisted that he wear something over the armor, and because of his public image as the CEO of LE, Chuck decides that he'll have to wear a mask when out on Orion's missions. One night, while reading the graphic novel _The Watchmen_, Chuck gains inspiration from the character, Rorschach, and also, _The Green Hornet_. He decides that that's who Osiris will be the basis of.

**2007-**In January, the 2.0 was completed, and ready for download. After downloading the Intersect, Chuck begins to train so that he could learn how to properly use it. As Bryce is no longer apart of the CIA, and Jill is suspected by Fulcrum as being a double agent, Chuck's secondary objective, next to finding the identity of the Architect, is to break into agency facilities to acquire intel for future Intersect updates. In March, Chuck, as Osiris, goes on his first mission: to break into an NSA facility in Houston, Texas and gather intelligence. The mission was a success. In later months, Osiris was successful in acquiring intel from one other CIA and NSA facilities, two Ring bases, and one Fulcrum base.

In September, Chuck and Stephen get in an argument over which base to break into next. Not wanting to disappoint his father, Chuck, as Osiris, gave in, and broke into a joint CIA/NSA facility in Washington DC. Director Graham and General Beckman discovered that Fulcrum's headquarters were located in LA, so they sent their two best agents, Sarah Walker and John Casey to find and capture Osiris.


	3. The Seven Point Spinal Tap

**A/N**: Sorry it's been awhile since I've last posted. You can blame the fact that I'm no longer sick which means I'm free to go out again. It was nice to get some fresh air. Anyway, thanks to everyone who left reviews, and for those who didn't, I shake my finger in your general direction. Kidding! Or am I…? ;-)

Another 'thank you' goes out to **Frea O'Scanlin**, the author of one of my favorite FFs, **What Fates Impose**, for even mentioning my story in her author's note. I cried tears of joy when I saw that.

And a BIG "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE THE BEST! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR HELPING ME (times a million more exclamation points)!" for **mxpw** for beta-ing this chapter. Without him, and his help, you all would probably be scratching your heads by the end of the chapter, and asking yourselves, "Is **22 **on drugs?"

And lastly, thanks to everyone who are investing their time into this story! You guys are so awesome that you put Devon to shame!

* * *

**September 30, 2007  
Langman Electronic Security Basement—aka—Castle**

After lacing up her combat boots, Sarah inspected the chamber of her trusty Smith & Wesson before she holstered it. She grabbed a couple extra magazines, and tucked them into the pouches on her vest.

"Is your head on straight?" Casey asked, clicking on the safety of his Sig Sauer.

"Why wouldn't it be?" she asked, tying her hair up in a loose bun. Without waiting for a response, Sarah headed up the stairs to meet the rest of the tactical support.

Casey followed. "Because you threw a bitch fit earlier, and you almost killed President Reagan," he said, "And that statue cost a lot…had to get that sucker custom made."

"Reagan died three years ago," she snapped, causing Casey to growl angrily. Okay, that was uncalled; she knew. Reagan's death was a sore spot for good ol' Major Casey. "I'm sorry. Just in a mood."

"Well, get your head out of your ass," said Casey, jumping into a large van with their tactical support already waiting.

"Will do, sir," said Sarah, rolling her eyes as she slammed the door shut.

She settled into the seat closest to the door in time to feel the van jolting forward. Casey spread out the satellite pictures of the docks that Beckman and Graham had sent to them about an hour ago. The operatives all leaned forward as Casey began to explain where they were to be stationed, what their objectives were, and all the other mission specs that Sarah already knew by heart.

So as the truck rolled and bumped along the road, Sarah closed her eyes for a moment. She was still frustrated about the lack of a kiss goodbye from Chuck. But Chuck was a shy guy. He always has been. But she figured that being a billionaire would increase his confidence.

She desperately wanted to hit something. She looked over at the operative sitting beside her, tempted to just give the kid a hard right hook to his face. Then she remembered that she was going to be out of the van soon, and she would be able to kick some Fulcrum ass. Maybe that masked freak's ass too. It would be nice to catch Osiris—

_If you turn in Osiris, then you would have to leave_, her mind reminded her. _Then you wouldn't be able to see Chuck again._

_Touché, brain_, Sarah thought. _I could just give him a swift kick to the sack then_.

"Atta girl…" she mumbled to herself, smiling.

**

* * *

**

As she walked as silently as she was able in combat boots, Sarah listened for any sign of disturbance. So far, the only thing she could hear were the gentle waves crashing against the concrete and the sounds of distant gunshots. It seemed as though everyone was in the shit except for her.

Sarah peeked behind a large, faded green storage container. When she saw a group of about five Fulcrum operatives, she held up a fist to halt the two other operatives behind her. She turned, ready to signal her them, but before she could sign anything, a bullet flew through the man on her right. Not even a second later, the operative next to him fell to the ground, and Sarah heard two faint echoes of gunshots coming from the cranes.

Cursing herself for not even having the thought to check the cranes, she grabbed an M4 carbine off one of the dead agents, and ran out from behind the container. The operatives were ready for her, but she was faster than them. She fired five three-round bursts, and saw five men falling backwards. On instinct, she sprinted as quickly as she could carry herself to the concrete pillar five yards in front of her. When she dove behind the pillar, a bullet ricocheted off the ground where she had been standing a millisecond before.

She brought her watch up to her mouth. "Casey, we've got a sniper up on one of the cranes," she said. Casey didn't respond. "Casey, do you copy?" She pressed the earwig deeper into her ear, and she heard a faint static. "Damn it!" she cried aloud. Fulcrum must have cut off all communication devices.

She dug a mirror from her pocket, and held it out to the side of the pillar to check out the crane. It was a good 250 to 300 yards away. But there was no sign of the sniper. She tilted the mirror a little to the left, and that's when she saw him. The sniper was crouched at the base of the crane. Sarah toggled the switch on her M4 from semi-automatic to automatic. She exhaled a breath. Peeking out from behind the pillar, she whipped her head back in time to dodge another bullet. She dropped down to a knee, leaned over to the side of the pillar, and began to fire the rifle in the direction of the sniper. She kept firing until the loud bang from the bullets stopped, and the only sound that emitted from the carbine was a dull click. She had emptied the magazine, and she brought her body back behind the pillar, hoping that she had shot the sniper.

"Looks like you got him," called a voice from her left, answering her silent question. Sarah took her pistol out of the holster, and aimed at the direction of the deep, gravelly, almost Clint Eastwood-like voice. "Yeah, you definitely got him."

A man walked out of the shadows, and stepped up to Sarah with both his arms above his head. The first thing she noticed was that he wasn't dressed in field gear. Instead, he was dressed in a black pair of slacks, and a raincoat. Her eyes moved up to his face, and she saw that he was wearing a black phantom mask. It was Osiris.

"Don't come any closer, or I will drop you!" He stopped next to a container, and she could see him smiling a tight lipped smile. "Who are you? Fulcrum? Ring?"

"I'm Osiris," he replied, still smiling in a way that made Sarah want to shoot his ass down. "And you're Special Agent Sarah Walker of the CIA."

"How do you know who I am?" She cocked her gun, and aimed it at the masked freak's head. He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped. Sarah heard the thudding sounds of footsteps coming closer.

"Sonar," Osiris mumbled. Two pearly white lenses dropped from the slits of his mask's eyes. Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Off," he mumbled again. "There are about a dozen Fulcrum agents heading this way from the north. You should run. I'll distract them."

Sarah was about to tell Osiris that there was no way she was going to let him leave, but he was already climbing to the top of a container, and was out of sight. The footsteps grew louder behind Sarah. She knew she should run, but she just could not say no to a gun fight. She crouched behind the pillar once more, and dug out three magazines, placing them on the ground in front of her to make for a faster reload.

Sarah peeked her head out from behind the pillar, her gun drawn out in front of her, in time to see a blinding white flash. A high pitched noise rang in her ears, although she was just barely out of the range of the stun grenade. Had she been any closer, she would have been temporarily blind and deaf.

Ignoring the ringing in her ears, Sarah looked out from behind the pillar once more to see Osiris leaping off a container and onto a group of stunned Fulcrum operatives. Sarah watched as Osiris quickly got up to his feet and aimed precise kicks and punches to the other operatives around him. He was fast, she noticed, as he ducked punches. He sent roundhouse kicks, and right hooks all about. There were spinning heel kicks and haymakers flying every which way. There were even some knees to the faces, and some elbows to the throats. Finally, she saw him flicking his wrists, and two pistols sprang out from under the sleeves of his coat. He held his arms out to his side, like helicopter blades, and spun around in a circle while firing tranquilizer darts. Soon, all of the operatives around him were on the ground.

Osiris turned in Sarah's direction, grinning. There was something familiar about that grin, but before she could put a finger on it, the grin faded.

"Behind you!"

Sarah, still crouched, turned in time to see a man lunging toward her with a knife. By instinct, she double tapped the trigger to her pistol. Two rounds hit him square in the chest. Sarah fired another round to his head. The man crumpled down. The head shot wasn't to ensure that the man was dead. Sarah always fired into her victim's faces so that she wouldn't have to see them. She didn't need even more nightmares of the surprised faces of the people she'd killed.

"You okay?" Osiris asked from behind her. She turned around to see he had offered her his hand, but being as stubborn as she was, Sarah quickly scrambled to her feet, and aimed her gun at his head. Osiris held up his hands. "You better save your bullets."

"Why would I do that?"

"There were twelve guys. I only took out ten," he replied, looking around. "You took out one. Which means there's another Fulcrum agent out here…just have to figure out where he is…"

"Why don't you use your sonar thing?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"I forgot about that," Osiris mumbled, turning to Sarah. "It's new, and…never mind." He brought his left arm up to his mouth and mumbled, "Sonar."

Once again, the white lenses dropped from underneath the mask. Sarah watched as Osiris gazed around.

"Do you see anything?" she asked, looking around the docks as well.

"I think…" He shot his head up, looking behind Sarah. "Watch out!"

She felt his fingers wrap tightly around her arm. Then there was a yank, and she felt herself being pulled toward him. He wrapped his arms around her body, and turned both of them around. A loud gunshot echoed off the containers all around them, and she was thrown backwards. Osiris landed on top of her, groaning in pain.

Sarah pushed him off. She quickly sat up, and fired three rounds in the direction of the previous gunshot. When she heard the thud of a body hitting the ground, Sarah turned back to Osiris.

As Sarah lifted herself back up to her feet, Osiris began to cough.

"God that hurt," he groaned, getting gingerly to his feet. When he straightened up, she heard a clang of metal as the bullet that had hit him bounced on the ground.

She wanted to ask if he was okay. It _was_ the least she could do. The freak _did_ just save her life. But the thing was, unless this freak explained himself, he was considered her mark. Sarah knew what she should do. She should shoot him in the head, and be done with it. But as Osiris bent backwards to pop his back, she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

"You're going to have to come with me," she said, reaching behind for handcuffs. "I'm going to have to bring you in."

"Afraid I can't let you do that, Agent Walker," he said softly. "I have a job to do. You should get out of here. There could be more Fulcrum agents."

"The thing is, I have orders," Sarah said, bringing her gun up, aiming it at Osiris's head. "I could either bring you in, or I could kill you."

"You follow orders often?"

"Yep," she replied.

"Hmm…" he mused. "Well, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

The words barely made it out of her mouth, before she saw Osiris's eyelids fluttering. He grabbed her arm, and pulled her forward. She felt at least seven quick, sharp prods along her spine. Her arms began to feel heavy, and her gun slid unwillingly through her fingers. Her legs were shaking as though they were carrying 500 pounds.

"What…what did you do to me?" she mumbled as she began to fall back. Osiris caught her before she hit the ground.

"Pinched a couple of nerves on your spine," he replied, lifting her up. "You're temporarily paralyzed. It should go away in about thirty minutes."

"You…fu-uhk-uhr…" Sarah slurred. Her lips felt as though they weighed thirty pounds. Osiris began to carry her away.

"I said I was sorry," he stated. "I'm taking you back to your van. It's too dangerous for you out here."

"I…cahn tekk air of mah self."

"I know. But seeing as you can't move, I don't think it would be very nice of me to leave you out here."

Sarah's whole body was now numb. She couldn't say or do anything. Osiris walked quickly, pausing every now and then to look around for more agents. Sarah's head dropped at an odd angle, and Osiris hitched her up. She watched as they weaved through all of the metal containers, and soon enough, she could see the van that she had arrived in. Osiris gently put her down on the ground as he pulled the back doors open. Again, he lifted her, and laid her down on the barely cushioned benches.

"You're going to be fine," said Osiris softly. "I promise."

The next thing she heard was the slamming of the first door as Osiris left. When the second door slammed, all she could see was darkness as all light was omitted from the van.

**

* * *

**

She's walking down the cobbled street, passing by old cafes and pubs. When she turns the corner, she sees her mark, a young brunette woman. She freezes. She can feel the cold metal of her gun, tucked safely in her raincoat, but she can't bring herself to use it. Instead, she pauses, for a split second, and exhales as she continues to walk. She takes a deep breath, and grips onto the handle of her gun tightly. Just as she's about to open fire, her mark drops something: a piece of jewelry. She just can't shoot her. Not when she's crouching on the ground. But when she looks in a rearview mirror of an old BMW, she sees her mark reaching for something in her purse. Without hesitating, Sarah pulls her gun out of her pocket, and fires a round into the woman's chest.

The only thing is that this isn't the same woman that she had just seen a second ago. This woman is blonde, nearly identical to Sarah except for her eyes. This doppelganger has green eyes, and her hair is a darker shade of blonde than Sarah's.

Sarah's mouth falls open. Her heart is racing and beating rapidly against her ribcage. She tries to breathe as the old architecture and cobbled streets begins to fade away, revealing hockey sticks, soccer balls, golf equipment, ski equipment, and football gear. She's no longer in Paris. She's in her parents' old sporting goods store.

Sarah looks back to the blonde woman, gasping for breath.

"Sarah, sweetie," the woman gasps, trying to hide the fear from her eyes. "It's going to be okay."

"Mom!" Sarah cries, trying to reach for her mother as the life in Dana Walker's eyes begins to fade.

* * *

**October 1, 2007**

Sarah's eyes shot open as she woke up with a start. Sweat dripped down her face as she took deep breaths to calm her startled heart. It was always the same dream night after night. Her red test in France—the second worst day of her life—combined with the first—the day she watched the life disappear in her mother's eyes.

Kicking the blankets off her, Sarah rolled out of bed. She walked up to the vanity, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was almost translucent, as the sweat drops slid down.

Sarah sat down in front of the vanity, her head resting in her hands. She exhaled a deep breath and closed her eyes. This was her morning routine. Sarah would take a few minutes every morning to reflect on her life; to feel sorry for herself. She would wonder how her life would have turned out if the robber never came into her parents' store. Her mother would have lived. If Dana never got shot that day, then Sarah and her father would have never gotten into a life of conning.

Instead, she would have grown up with a normal life. She would have grown up with Chuck. Who knew what would have happened to them if they grew up together? They could have drifted apart. Maybe they would still be friends to this day? Maybe something more—?

Sarah took in another breath, and remembered the day she was recruited into the CIA. She was driving home from San Francisco; sad that she had to leave Chuck again, but happy that she was able to even see him. That stupid Chumbawumba song came on the radio, and she laughed happily, remembering how Chuck had bounced excitedly to the beat of the song after they had snuck out of their hotel for the first time. Hearing that song then had made her forget that she was driving back to a distorted life of conning.

But as she had approached her house, there were cop cars parked outside. When she parked her car, she saw her father being escorted out by the police. Just like that, her father was out of her life. She ran away as quickly as she could to the park just a few blocks away. Sprinting, as she wove around playground structures and children playing soccer or catch, to the woods behind the park where her father had left her money in case he ever got caught.

Then Langston Graham and the CIA entered her life. Feeling as though she had to pay for her and her father's sins, Sarah joined the CIA. But it wasn't like she had any other choice. It was either join the CIA or go to jail.

For years, she focused on her training. For years, the agency molded her into becoming a spy. They thought they were able to shed her of her emotions. They believed that they had turned her into a cold hearted spy. But that was just another one of Sarah's cons.

What they didn't know, and would never know, is that every night before she fell asleep, and every morning when she woke up, Sarah always thought about the normal life that she wanted, and maybe needed, but knew she could never have.

The knock on her door snapped her away from her brooding. Sarah pulled back a drawer, and grabbed her pistol.

"Yeah?" she called through the door, her gun at the ready.

"It's Casey," the gruff voice replied. Sarah placed her gun back into the drawer, and made her way to unlock the door.

"What's up?" she asked when she opened the door, revealing Casey.

"Briefing with Graham and Beckman in thirty," he replied. "Prepare to get your ass chewed out for letting the masked freak escape."

Sarah huffed out a breath. It's not like she had _asked_ Osiris to give her the world's craziest spinal tap and briefly paralyze her.

"Fine, I'll be ready in twenty," she said, rolling her eyes.

She slammed the door and made her way to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

* * *

**March, 1998**

Sarah and Chuck sat on the hood of her car, leaning back against the windshield. As there were too many lights in San Francisco, it was nearly impossible to see any of the stars; so instead, they gazed up at a starless sky. The mix tape that he had made her played softly from her stereo system. Sonic Youth's cover version of _Superstar_ was playing, and she bobbed her head to the slow tune.

"Do you…" Chuck began, clearing his throat. "Do you regret leaving Encino? I mean, I know you didn't have much of a choice, but do you miss it?"

"Every day," she replied, looking over at Chuck who had propped himself up on an elbow. "I miss my old life."

"Why did your dad want to leave?"

Sarah shrugged. "He never really talked to me about it. If I had to guess, I'd say it was because everything there reminded him of my mom. I can see why he wanted to leave, but sometimes…sometimes I hate him for it."

"But he cares about you—"

"Yeah, I know." Ahe nodded. She _did_ know. Yeah, there was that time when she got steamrolled by the armored truck, but her father wouldn't intentionally let anything happen to her. "But sometimes, when I can't sleep, I just wonder about things."

"Like what?"

"I don't know…the normal life, I guess?" she replied. "My dad and I are constantly moving around the country. I went to a lot of different schools, but they always had one thing in common: other kids with their groups of friends, and then me…the kid who sits in the back corner of the cafeteria."

"If we didn't know each other, and you went to my school, I would sit with you…" Chuck said softly.

"Oh yeah?"

"Definitely," Chuck replied, grinning. "We could swap sandwiches. I'd probably bring a good ol' turkey and Swiss with a dab of honey Dijon."

"What do you think I'd bring?" Sarah smiled.

He looked up to the right in concentration. "You would probably bring…a salami, black ham, and provolone, with light mayo. If you did make the trade, I would probably be your best friend."

"So you're saying that your friendship can be bought with food?"

"Definitely. It makes me wonder how _we_ became friends when we were younger," said Chuck. "I bet you gave me a cookie or a cupcake or something."

Sarah giggled.

"Actually, my mom told me the story a long time ago," she said. "Apparently I threw a ball at your head, and made you cry. Then I felt bad, so I gave you a kiss on your forehead, but that made you cry even harder, so _I_ started to cry."

"Aw…bonding over tears…" Chuck laughed. "But now, I'm hungry—" He looked at his calculator watch that always made Sarah have to hold in her laughter whenever she saw it. "And it's way too late for anything to be open."

"I'm sure we could find some place that's open."

"In the mood for a sandwich…I doubt Subway would be open this late." Chuck shrugged. "Oh well…we always have the complimentary '_continental'_ breakfast bar to look forward to."

"What's up with the air quotes?" Sarah asked, chuckling.

"I just don't get why they call it 'continental,'" Chuck replied, grinning. "When I hear that word, I think of something foreign. The most foreign, or whatever, breakfast item they have is English muffins."

"Such a dork," she teased.

"I'm just passionate about food is all," he defended.

"I know you are. So how did this talk about food come up again?"

"Um…"

"Oh…" Sarah remembered now.

"Yeah…but anyway…" Chuck cleared his throat. "Do you think we would still be friends?"

"What?"

"If you didn't leave."

"Of course we would be." Sarah couldn't imagine what would ever come between them that would be able shatter their friendship. "I mean, we're still friends, right?"

"Right…I think we always will be," Chuck said with a smile.

* * *

**October 1, 2007**

Precisely twenty minutes later, Sarah pulled her hair back into a simple pony tail, and began putting on some light make up. Once she was done, she made her way out of her penthouse and down the hall to where Casey's penthouse was located. She had mentally prepared herself for getting her ass chewed out by Graham and Beckman.

Without knocking, Sarah walked into Casey's penthouse to find him digging into a burnt Hot Pocket, Casey's self-proclaimed "breakfast of champions."

"How's the back?" His voice was muffled on account of his mouth being full of whatever the hell they put in Hot Pockets these days.

"A little bruised," she replied, fixing a cup of coffee. "But other than that, it's fine."

"Wonder where the freak learned that move," said Casey. "I heard rumors about it from my old sensei, but supposedly, it's a lost method."

Sarah shrugged, and sat across from her partner. She sipped her coffee in silence as Casey enjoyed his Hot Pocket in silence. Once Casey had taken his last bite, a familiar beep echoed in the room. Sarah got up off her chair, and she and Casey made their way into the living room to see the familiar faces of Graham and Beckman scowling back at them. As per usual, Beckman began their debriefing without preamble.

"While you were unable to apprehend Osiris, I am pleased to inform you that Osiris was unable to attain Fulcrum's intel," the General said. "However, I regret to inform you that Fulcrum has moved their headquarters, and we don't know where."

"I apologize, General," said Sarah. Beckman ignored her.

"But we can easily find out," Beckman continued. She pressed a button on her keyboard and two pictures of men popped up on the screen—a middle aged round-faced man with short, graying hair and a younger man, possibly in his mid to late twenty's, with longer, brown hair that was tied back. "The Demetrios family. Yari Demetrios owns the shipping lanes that Fulcrum used last night to ship out their data drives. We believe that you will be able to find out where exactly Fulcrum shipped them by using his son, Stavros. But more on that later."

"Agent Walker," said Graham. "Yesterday, you asked us to run a background check on a…" Graham filed through a folder, "Jill Roberts, correct?"

"Yes, sir," Sarah replied.

"Well, it seems that Dr. Roberts is a Fulcrum operative," said Graham. Sarah swallowed a lump down her throat. "They recruited her out of Stanford to develop bio-chemical weapons for them. Fortunately, she has yet to be successful."

Sarah nodded.

"However, she works on the main campus of Legends Enterprises," said Beckman. "And we, the NSA and the CIA, along with the United States military have a special contract with Legends. They provide the satellites that we use for cellular telecommunications. We believe that due to the history that Dr. Roberts and Legends CEO, Charles Bartowski, share, Fulcrum planted Dr. Roberts inside LE's the pharmaceutical department to get close to Mr. Bartowski."

"But why—?"

"Mr. Bartowski, General Beckman, and I, are the only people that know the access codes to the satellites," Graham said. "The deal we made was kept quiet; under the radar so that the Ring and Fulcrum wouldn't be able to tap into our lines. To make it seem inconspicuous, we also had him sign a deal with the military to develop software and to provide them with a cellular telecommunication network. That's one of the reasons why his company is so successful.

"However, we believe that Fulcrum and the Ring know about our satellites, and that was most likely the reason why Dr. Roberts was planted inside Legends. We believe she is there to try and get the access codes from Mr. Bartowski."

"We sent out two agents to apprehend Dr. Roberts last night," said Beckman. "Unfortunately, she had an escape plan ready, and we were unable to apprehend her. And that's where you and Major Casey come in."

"Want us to look for Dr. Roberts?" Casey asked. Beckman shook her head.

"We want you to be Mr. Bartowski's handlers," said Graham. At his words, Sarah choked on a bit of spit. Casey pounded his palm into her back. "He now needs around the clock protection."

"Excuse me? You want us to be Chu—Mr. Bartowski's handlers?" she clarified. Graham nodded.

"You and Mr. Bartowski have history, am I correct?"

"We were friends when we were children," Sarah replied, her heart racing.

She did _not_ want Chuck to know she was a spy. She didn't want him to know that she had lied to him about what she did for a living. All she wanted to do was arrest Jill. Okay, she wanted to get Jill out of the picture, and show Chuck that his pretty, egghead, ex-girlfriend was a treasonous, scumbag whore. And then maybe she could have offered him comfort. Yeah, it was crazy, and borderline stalkerish, but Sarah remembered the way that Jill had looked at Chuck. All was fair…

"And the two of you have spent some time together since you arrived in Burbank, yes?"

"Yes, sir, but—"

"Then he has already developed some trust in you," said Graham. "We need you to do this because Jill Roberts got away. There is a chance that Fulcrum will either try to or has already planted more of their agents inside LE. You, Major Casey, and Agent Hansen need to protect Mr. Bartowski."

"Surely there's another way," Sarah tried to reason.

"It's either that, or we let Fulcrum torture him for the code, and let them kill him when they realize that he gave them the wrong code," said Beckman. Sarah's heart skipped a beat "We informed Mr. Bartowski of this not ten minutes ago. We changed the access code to the satellites, and now, the Director and I are the only people who know it. However, Mr. Bartowski did us a great service by constructing and sending the satellites out. Without him, we wouldn't have been able to find out who Fulcrum and the Ring have in our agencies. We feel that we should offer him protection."

"10-4," said Casey, nodding. "So we protect Bartowski for how long?"

"Until you either capture or kill Osiris," said Graham. "Then we'll send in new agents to take your places."

"Which brings us to your covers," said Beckman. "At the moment, Agent Hansen is flying into Los Angeles, and starting tomorrow, she will be Mr. Bartowski's executive assistant. Agent Walker, you will be working in the finance department, and you will be required to find out if there is any more Fulcrum or Ring agents working at the corporate office. That should keep you busy for several weeks."

Sarah didn't respond. She hated this assignment already. All she could see was the look of betrayal on Chuck's face.

"And Major Casey," Beckman continued. "You will be—"

"Head of security at Legends?" he guessed, rolling his eyes.

"Actually, no," replied Graham, a small smirk forming on his face. "You will be Mr. Bartowski's butler."

This time, it was Casey's turn to cough in surprise. Despite Sarah's objection to this assignment, she couldn't help but let out a chuckle as she imagined Casey in a long-tailed tuxedo.

"Excuse me?" Casey choked.

"Someone needs to monitor Mr. Bartowski in his private residence and make sure he's safe," said Beckman.

"Hansen can be his maid then!" Casey argued.

"No," said Graham. "You know how Agent Hansen operates. She's too unpredictable to be put in such close proximity to Mr. Bartowski."

Sarah nodded in agreement.

"Then kick one of his neighbor's out and I can move in next door! Monitor him from there!"

"Mr. Bartowski lives in an estate. His closest neighbor is a mile away," said Beckman sternly. "Major, this is your assignment. It's either this or you come back to Washington and continue to train new recruits. Do you accept this assignment?"

Casey glared down at the ground. "I accept, ma'am," he grunted.

Graham turned back to Sarah, leaving her to wonder what else they could possibly throw at her.

"Walker, you're going to have to embark in a cover relationship with Mr. Bartowski," he said. "He's expected to attend a lot of parties and conventions. You'll go with him as his girlfriend. As the two of you shared a childhood friendship, we trust that the people around you will accept your relationship. They'll probably even think it to be a romantic story."

Sarah clenched her jaw. She _really_ loathed this assignment. A fake relationship with Chuck? Having to appear as if they were a happy couple when in reality they're not even a real couple?

"Which brings us back to the Demetrios family," said Beckman. "With Mr. Bartowski's status as CEO of one of the fastest growing companies in the world, we can use him to get us access to the Demetrios family's shipping business."

Sarah and Casey just stared blankly up at the screen.

"Stavros Demetrios owns and operates a number of LA nightclubs," Beckman explained. "He's wanted to build a new nightclub for awhile now, and he's looking for investors. We want you, Agent Walker, to take Mr. Bartowski to Club Aries tomorrow, and have Mr. Bartowski act as if he wants to invest in the new club. Set up a meeting with Stavros at his office for the next day. His office is located on the same pier from last night. From there, you will be able to copy their network database using a PFI230 that Agent Hansen is bringing."

"Ma'am, is it safe to bring Chuck along?" Sarah asked. "Wouldn't it be safer for him to—?"

"It is necessary that you bring Mr. Bartowski along," said Graham, answering for Beckman. "That way, the Demetrios family won't suspect anything. Agents Casey and Hansen will provide backup should anything go wrong. Mr. Bartowski will be safe, so you just keep your eyes on the prize, Walker."

It was nearly impossible for Sarah not to glare at her superiors, but miraculously, she was able to maintain her stoic expression. "Yes, sir," she grumbled.

"Once you extract the data, you should be able to find which dock Fulcrum sent their data to," said Beckman. "That way, we'll be able to know where Osiris will most likely strike next."

"What happens when we spot Osiris?" Casey asked.

"Either you, Walker, or Hansen stay behind with Mr. Bartowski. And two of you will go after him," Beckman replied.

"Understood." Casey seemed satisfied, if not determined. Sarah knew what he was thinking. He wanted to kill Osiris to get this assignment over with.

"And Major Casey, Agent Walker?" Graham started. "We highly doubt it would ever come down to this, but if Mr. Bartowski is compromised for any reason, we may have to burn him; hide him in a bunker. I trust the two of you will be able to comply to that order?"

"Gladly," Casey snarled.

_No_, Sarah wanted to reply.

"Yes, sir," Sarah lied, her jaw clenching.

"Very well," said Beckman. "Mr. Bartowski has been notified, and he'll be arriving shortly. Meeting adjourned."

The screen Sarah had been staring at for the last ten minutes blinked black. Once it did, Sarah kicked the leg off of a side table by Casey's couch, causing one of his bonsai plants that had been resting on the table to topple down.

"Damn it, Walker!" Casey growled, gingerly picking the plant up. "If you need to take out your frustrations, then take it out on your own shit!"

Sarah didn't respond. She plopped herself down onto Casey's couch, and crossed her arms tightly across her chest.

"I don't know why you're so pissy anyway," said Casey. "If you ask me, I think I got the shit end of the stick. Having to be a butler…it's a damn good thing I love my country."

"No," said Sarah, glaring at Casey. "_I _got the shit end of the stick, Casey. _I'm _the one that actually has something to lose. Chuck's the only…the only person that I can think back to remind me of who I _really_ am. If he gets involved with this, then—"

"This is the life we chose, Walker." Casey carried the plant away to his dining room, most likely to inspect it for possible injuries. "It's a shitty one, but at the end of the day, the people that we cared about from before, they're safe. That's all that matters."

"I'm going outside to wait for Chuck."

"You do that, Walker," said Casey. "You owe me thirty bucks for a new bonsai tree."

Ignoring Casey, Sarah walked out of his room, and made her way down to the parking lot. When she stepped outside, she sat down on the curb, and stared out passed the nearly empty lot, save for her Porsche and Casey's Crown Victoria, and over to the entrance.

The thing that upset Sarah the most was the fact that Chuck was the only person in her life that had nothing to do with the spy life. Over the years, she would read about Chuck and how quickly his company grew—how successful he turned out to be—and she would be happy. There were times, as silly as it sounded, where she thought she had something to fall back on after her career as a spy was over. She imagined herself meeting up with Chuck sometime in the far future. Of course, Chuck would be married to some beautiful woman and he'd probably have a bunch of cute, curly haired kids, but she at least took a little comfort in the fact that she would have someone…_normal_ in her life after her spy life was over.

But now, Chuck was a part of it, and who knew how he'd react? It's as if all of the wishful thoughts she had were slowly fading away. As if the cruel bastard that was life was taunting her, telling her that everyone she meets, everything she touches are destined to be tainted by her.

Now she understood what a fool she had been for the last two days. How she had been acting like a giddy teenager around Chuck, and she scolded herself over her silly crush. Chuck was a billionaire. He could have any woman he wanted. Why the hell would he want someone like her? Especially now that he knew what she did for a living? This thing—these feelings for Chuck—it had to stop. She has to be professional. The faster she shoots Osiris in the head, the faster she can leave LA, and be gone from ruining Chuck's life.

The thoughts soon dissipated when she looked across the lot to see Chuck walking toward her. He looked…awful. Even from about twenty yards away, she could see the dark shadows under his eyes. When he got closer, she saw that his eyes were bloodshot, and his lower face was covered in stubble. Yet, somehow, the cold hearted spy that she had been determined to become, disappeared as quickly as she had arrived.

"Oh, Chuck," she said, getting up from the curb. "Are you okay?"

He looked at her with a confused expression on his face.

"It looks like you haven't gotten any sleep."

"Oh…yeah, I had to go to a launch party," he replied, scratching his head. "Uh…when I got in this morning, I got a call from…your bosses, I guess? They're your bosses, right?"

"Yeah…listen, Chuck, I'm so—"

"Its fine," he said, giving her a tired smile. "I knew that something like this could happen when I signed the contract."

"No, I'm sorry that I lied to you," she said, ignoring Chuck's last statement. "You know…about being…what I am."

"I already knew, Sarah," said Chuck. "I should be the one apologizing…"

Sarah raised an eyebrow up at Chuck. "You knew? How?"

"Bryce Larkin, well, he goes by Bruce Leonard now, told me. Only thing is, you should keep that on the down low. I've seen your bosses and they give me the willies. I don't wanna get Bryce in trouble, you know?"

"He…he _told_ you?" she stammered. "Why? When?"

"After his car accident," Chuck replied, leaving Sarah confused for a second. Then she remembered. "He works as an accountant at my company, and well, yeah. He told me that you asked him a long time ago if he knew who I was, and he was wondering why you would ask…so he told me that you work for the CIA."

"Oh." Well, this wasn't going as badly as Sarah thought it would.

"It's pretty cool that you're a spy," he continued, grinning now. "I always knew you'd be a bad ass."

"It's not like that, Chuck," Sarah said, shaking her head. "It's actually…well, sometimes it's fun, but for the most part—actually, I shouldn't be telling you this."

He chuckled. "Yeah, but Sarah? You have nothing to be sorry for. You had to lie about what you do, it's part of the job, I know."

"Yeah…I hate that part," she mumbled, kicking a loose pebble on the ground. "Does Ellie know?"

"No, I never told her," he replied.

Sarah nodded, but she didn't say anything.

"So…cover relationship, huh?" Chuck asked. "How does that work?"

"Just like how it sounds," said Sarah, a hint of sadness in her voice. "We appear like a normal, happy couple in public, but when…when we're not around other people.…"

"It's over?" Chuck asked.

"Pretty much."

"That sucks," he sighed.

You have no idea, Chuck, she thought to herself.

"At least I get a butler out of it," he joked.

Sarah laughed. "Not sure you should be happy about that."

Chuck's face fell. "What do you mean?"

"Well, uh…your butler, Casey? He's…he's a happy person…but he doesn't really show it."

"Repressed, huh?" Chuck guessed.

"Yeah, so he, you know, he's grumpy," said Sarah.

Chuck shrugged. "He won't have to do much," he said. "Devon told me that he's going to ask Ellie to marry him, so Ellie's going to move out soon."

"Devon?"

"Oh, he's an awesome guy," Chuck said with a smile.

"Oh, well, that's good for Ellie," said Sarah. "And Casey should be happy knowing that he won't have to do much."

"All I ask from his is a British accent."

Sarah giggled. "Probably won't happen." Chuck snapped his fingers. "So you're okay with this, Chuck?"

"Not really," he replied, shrugging. "I mean, constant surveillance, you know? It doesn't sound like fun, but I was warned something like this would happen when I signed the contract with the government. Hopefully, it won't take you guys too long to find the people who are after me."

"We'll do our best," she promised. "C'mon, we should go upstairs. Casey and I need to debrief you."

"Dirty," he chuckled as he followed Sarah into the building. "Take me out to a nice dinner, at least!"

She giggled, and smacked him playfully on his shoulder. He pressed the button for the elevator, and leaned his back against the wall.

"So, uh…speaking of dinners," he said shyly. "I _did_ say that I'd take you out tonight to celebrate your new job, and ironically, you just started your new job today, so…do you…maybe still want to go?"

She couldn't stop the smile or the blush from spreading over her face. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Cool…it should be good," Chuck said, blushing slightly. "For the cover, I mean."

Sarah felt her heart drop. Already he was thinking about the cover.

"Definitely," she replied, stepping into the elevator. "Good for the cover."

"Yeah, you know, apart from the fake relationship, this is almost like middle school," he remarked. "You know, you protecting me from bullies."

"Sure," she sighed. Her new, most hated word was now, 'fake,' she decided.

She led Chuck over to Casey's room, but Casey was already standing outside with a terrible scowl on his face. He approached Chuck, and grabbed him roughly by the shirt.

"Whoa!"

"Casey!" Sarah cried, trying to pry the giant's hands off Chuck. Casey paid no mind.

"First things first, Bartowski," he growled. "Don't expect me to call you 'Master Charles' or 'Master Bartowski.' Second, for breakfast, I'll only make you and your sister toast and coffee. You two are on your own for lunch and dinner. Lastly, if you purposely make a mess for me to clean up, I will _end_ you."

"Nice to meet you too," said Chuck, rolling his eyes at Sarah as Casey released him. "And relax, my sister's going to move out in the next week or so. It all depends on when her boyfriend proposes. So you won't have to do anything once she leaves. Plus, she likes to take care of things herself."

"Good," Casey spat, shoving Chuck into the room. "Now, sit. We have to debrief you."

Sarah stifled her giggling when she saw Chuck struggling to keep himself from saying a joke.

* * *

**Nine Hours Ago  
Orion's Den **

Chuck pulled the mask off his face, ignoring the accusing glares from his father and Bryce.

"Sonar works fine," he said, tossing the mask onto the table.

"How come you didn't bring back the hard drives, Charles?" asked Stephen. "You knew the container number. You should have been out of there in ten minutes at the most."

"It was Sarah, Dad," Chuck said. "She was in trouble. I couldn't just…_leave_ her."

"Sarah's a trained CIA agent," said Bryce. "She would have been able to handle that situation."

"She almost got killed twice," Chuck countered. "If I wasn't there, she would have died."

"You can't make this personal—" Stephen began before Chuck cut him off.

"Don't even give me that crap, Dad," said Chuck, rolling his sore shoulder that had gotten shot. "Correct me if I'm wrong, you're doing this for Mom, right?"

Stephen opened his mouth to retort, but Bryce interjected first. "We can get to the family drama later, guys. Orion, we have bigger problems, remember?"

"What do you mean, 'bigger problems?'" asked Chuck.

"Jill's been made as Fulcrum," Bryce replied. "The CIA just tried to extract her at her apartment, but she got away. She's on her way here right now."

"How did I know that was going to happen?" he remarked dryly. At the very least, he was glad that Jill had been able to get away. However, that didn't stop him from being angry with himself for telling Sarah that Jill worked at his company earlier that day. "What happened?

"Sarah called in a background check on her when she saw her at the coffee shop earlier," said Stephen.

Chuck groaned, and laid his head down on the table. "Damn it!"

"Graham and Beckman are going to assign Sarah, Carina, and Casey to be your handlers in the morning," said Bryce.

Chuck's head shot up. "Why?"

"They think Fulcrum's after the satellite code," he replied. "And they want to make sure that you're safe from them."

"So what do I do now? Run?"

Stephen shook his head. "We still need the satellite for the Intersect updates, and if you run, the CIA will probably destroy the satellites or send new ones to be sure that they weren't compromised."

"What about the mission—?"

"Well, from what we've heard, it sounds like Beckman and Graham just want to make sure nobody else at your company is Fulcrum," said Stephen. "They're going to plant Sarah in the finance department, and she'll read over all of your employee's files. Once they see that you don't have any more Fulcrum agents in the company, they'll lessen your surveillance."

"So I just go along with it?" Chuck asked.

"Do you think you can, buddy?" asked Bryce.

Chuck shrugged. "I guess, but even if they find out there aren't any Fulcrum or Ring agents in the company, it doesn't change the fact that they're still going to be here until they find Osiris," said Chuck. "This means they'll still keep an eye on me to protect me from Fulcrum or the Ring."

"We're going to have to recruit them," said Stephen. "I don't like it; I want to keep the operation small, but Charles is right. They're still going to have to protect him whether there are Fulcrum or Ring agents or not."

"So should I just let Sarah know, or what?" Chuck asked.

Bryce shook his head. "Sarah's been in the CIA since she was seventeen, and she's _very_ loyal to them," he said. "The same goes for Carina and Casey. If you just tell them, then they'll report it. If the CIA or the NSA find out about our operation, Omega will know who we are, and that can't happen."

"So how do we recruit them?" Stephen asked.

"Chuck is going to have to get them to trust him," Bryce replied. "To make sure they won't report us to their bosses, he's going to have to develop a friendship with them. Sarah should be easy. I can take care of Carina. Casey might be a problem, but if we've already recruited Carina and Sarah it should be easier to recruit him. Or he'll probably just shoot us all, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Chuck laughed humorlessly. This all seemed flawed. It could all backfire on them, and they could all end up in a CIA detention facility or worse. He had heard stories from about how Sarah was practically an ice queen and extremely proficient on missions. Hell, he had seen just how proficient she was! He shuddered when he remembered the image of the Fulcrum agent getting shot in the face.

"So I just bring Carina over to you, and say, 'Hey, Carina! Look who works here; your old friend, Bryce Larkin, that's who!' And then you and Carina get all…whatever, and you magically recruit her?" Chuck scoffed.

"Carina's going to be your new executive assistant," said Bryce. "And seeing as I work in your department..." his voice trailed off.

"I have to get rid of Marjorie?" Chuck cried. Marjorie was his current executive assistant, and she was just the sweetest old gal in the world. Every Friday, she would bake Chuck some cookies or brownies, and they were freaking delicious. He didn't want to let her go.

"She's pushing sixty, Chuck."

"I know, but she has grandkids, and she really likes her job," Chuck pouted. "On top of that, Bryce, you've had her cookies! They're delicious!"

"I'm going to miss the cookies too, but it's time for old Marge to enjoy the rest of her life, man," said Bryce. "Anyway, you're going to have to let Sarah and the rest of them know that you know I used to be a spy. They shouldn't freak out about it too much. After that, I'll take care of Carina at work."

"I'm sure you will," Chuck deadpanned, leaving him to wonder if Bryce's…if Bryce _worked_. He shook the thought out of his head.

"So just get Casey and Sarah to trust you and make sure that we can trust them," said Stephen. "If we can't, then…well…we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Chuck nodded. "How exactly am I going to get them to trust me?"

"Well, Sarah should be easy—er—easier for you to gain her trust than Casey will be," said Bryce. "You're just going to have to charm her, which, now that I think about it, might be hard. She's really professional, and she's probably going to try to push you away. Handlers and their assets aren't supposed to get close to each other, but I'm sure you'll find a way to break her walls down."

"How?"

"Just charm the shit out of her." Bryce shrugged.

"That doesn't—I don't think I'm comfortable with that," Chuck admitted. Although he was aware of his feelings for Sarah, he didn't think toying with her emotions was a good way to recruit someone into a secret operation.

"But seriously, Chuck," said Bryce. "Sarah turns into something different when she's on missions, and technically, protecting you is a mission. She'll probably be cold and she'll want to have a professional relationship only. You need to melt her a bit."

"And how exactly do I do that?"

"Like I said, charm her." Bryce grinned. "You'll be able to do it. Jill said she saw Sarah flashing you some serious 'do me' eyes at the coffee shop earlier."

Chuck coughed. "What? She did not…._pfft_…" he sputtered, and then he finally settled with, "Shut up. You don't know…"

Chuck sighed, leaned back in his seat, and stared down at his hands. His father and Bryce began to draw out their plans He didn't listen to what they had to say, or what they planned to do. Instead, his mind wandered. Sure, it would be great to have a reason to spend time with Sarah, but that didn't stop the visions of Sarah shooting a man in the face after she had double tapped two rounds into his chest. It was brutal, and…_cold_. And it scared him to know that his old friend was even capable of executing a man like that.

That's what bothered him the most—knowing that that man wasn't the first person that Sarah had killed. Yes, if she didn't kill him, she would have been killed. But the sight of the poor guy's face caving in from the bullet was never going to be erased from his mind. The CIA had turned his once warm and loving friend into a cold, hard spy, and Chuck didn't know if he'd be able to thaw her.

* * *

**A/N**: That's it for this chapter! Thank you for reading! As always, I do this for the reviews!

And I'm totally stealing this idea from **Frea**, but I feel that I should give you all a little preview of what's coming up in the next chapter.

* * *

"_So, I'm supposed to be one of those jerk billionaires?" asked Chuck. _

"_You need to be a prick, yeah. That shouldn't be so hard for you," Casey sneered, "Let Walker do all the talking, and you just sit and look bored."_

"_Can I ask another question?"_

"_No."_

"_Wouldn't it be, I don't know, a little weird that I want to invest in a nightclub when I can just build my own if I wanted?" No wonder Omega has so many people inside the CIA, he thought. "Wouldn't that come across as, I don't know, _fishy _to this Stavros fella?"_

…

"_Don't worry about me."_

_He turned to face her, but she didn't meet his eyes. Instead, she just stared straight at the elevator door, looking determined to not meet his gaze. He studied her briefly, and saw how exhausted she looked: her eyelids drooped, and her skin was devoid of the usual rosy blush. _

"_How could I not worry about you?" he asked_


	4. Thawing the Ice Queen

**A/N:** Originally, this story was going to be a "what-if" story about Chuck and Sarah, after _**The Honeymooners**_, where they decided to quit the CIA. Their relationship was in a rut, and one night, Chuck got bored and decided that he wanted to be a superhero. What he didn't know was that Sarah was already dressing up as a superhero (guys, keep calm!). The main villain was going to be that Stanley Fitzroy guy because he's angry that Chuck and Sarah made him lose his job. I thought it would have been funny, but that might just be me. Anyway, there's a fun fact for ya.

So, as usual, thank you for everyone who has been reading, and keeping up with this story!

And a big thanks to **mxpw** for betaing. He really is awesome, and he's helped me a lot. In fact, he gave me a fun idea for the next chapter that I think people will find funny.

* * *

**Casey's Hotel Room****  
October 1, 2007  
11:34 AM PST **

The three of them sat in the large sitting area of Casey's penthouse. Chuck and Sarah were sitting next to each other on the loveseat, while the larger man had his own arm chair.

"Explain," said Casey, glaring at Chuck.

Chuck guessed that Casey's glare was his default expression. "Explain…what?"

"Casey wants you to explain your company to us," said Sarah. "How many departments do you have on the main campus?"

"Well, we have five," replied Chuck. "There's software development, engineering, mostly computer stuff; we're working on our own gaming consoles, but yeah. Anyway, then there's the cellular telecommunication department, the military tech department, and then there's the chemical department."

"Is that where Roberts worked?"

"Yeah. The chemical department branched out to pharmaceuticals as well."

"Who's in charge of the pharmaceutical branch?" asked Sarah, scribbling down notes on a notepad.

"Dr. Guy LaFleur," Chuck replied. "He used to be the head biochemical research scientist over at Oxford."

"When it started, did he bring in his own people, or did he bring in new people?"

"A bit of both."

"Was Jill a new hire, or was she already a part of LaFleur's team?"

"She was a part of LaFleur's team," said Chuck.

Casey grunted, and turned to Sarah. "Looks like you can start there."

Chuck scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I'm going to work in the finance department," said Sarah. "I'm going to suggest that your company needs to make some budget cuts, and review all of your employees in different departments, so that we can see if there are any more people from Jill's organization."

"Uh…I know I'm new to this, but wouldn't it be easier for you to work in Human Resources?" asked Chuck. "You can gain access to everyone's files with ease that way."

Sarah scratched something off her notepad, and looked up at Casey with a thoughtful expression. "He's got a point," she said.

Casey grunted, and rolled his eyes. "Fine, Walker will work for HR. I'll notify Beckman and Graham later, but it shouldn't be a problem." Casey leaned forward, and tossed two folders to Chuck. "Moving onto the mission tomorrow…"

Chuck listened as the big man grumbled about their plans to use him to copy data from some Russian playboy named Stavros Demetrios who owned a bunch of clubs and was the son of Yuri Stavros, a shipping magnate. He wanted to tell them that their plan was pretty flawed. Why would a billionaire want to purchase part of a nightclub when he could easily just build his own? But he kept his mouth shut, and listened while Casey grunted his way through the plans.

The plan was that Chuck and Sarah would enter Club Aries. They were to make contact with Stavros Demetrios, and Chuck was supposed to act as if he was interested in investing in a new club that Stavros was preparing. At Casey's insistence, Chuck was to remain quiet during the meeting. Sarah was going to pose as his personal finance assistant. It seemed easy enough.

"Then Walker's going to set up a meeting for the next day," Casey continued. "You'll go with her to the office, and again, you won't say anything. Is that clear? You. Will. Not. Say. A. Word. Clear?"

"What if Stavros asks me how I'm doing?"

"I meant what I said, Bartowski," said Casey. "Don't say a word to him. You'll probably slip up."

"So, I'm supposed to be one of those jerk billionaires?" asked Chuck.

"You need to be a prick, yeah. That shouldn't be so hard for you," Casey sneered, "Let Walker do all the talking, and you just sit and look bored."

"Can I ask another question?"

"No."

"Wouldn't it be, I don't know, a little weird that I want to invest in a nightclub when I can just build my own if I wanted?" No wonder Omega has so many people inside the CIA, he thought. "Wouldn't that come across as suspicious to this Stavros fellow?"

Sarah and Casey exchanged looks.

"Fine, then you'll play a dumb, prick billionaire," said Casey.

"How about we tell Stavros that I'm thinking of starting up a nationwide nightclub chain, and I want him to be a partner?" Chuck suggested, flourishing his hands. "I mean, think about it. The dude owns half of the nightclubs in LA. He knows he's good at what he does. That's why we flatter him by making him think he's good enough to run a nationwide chain of clubs!"

He grinned over to Sarah, who gave him an impressed look in response.

"Not a bad idea, Chuck," she said, looking over to Casey to see what he had to say. Casey growled.

"We need to establish a link into his network," he said. "How are we going to do that?"

"I'll have my guy work on a fake presentation," Chuck replied. "He'll have it done in two days, in time for the meeting, and we can use your Big Brother toys to link up to their network and take whatever you guys are looking for while Sarah gives the presentation."

"Who's your guy?"

"Larkin," Sarah replied. "Chuck knows that Larkin's ex CIA. He works at Chuck's company now as Bruce Leonard."

"He violated a lot of rules," Casey mumbled. "We should have him arrested."

"That's not necessary, Mr. Casey—"

"It's _Major_ Casey!"

"Fine, _Major_ Casey," Chuck rolled his eyes. "It's not necessary. I don't run around telling people, 'Dude! Guess what? I know an ex CIA spy!' And he didn't _tell_ me anything other than he used to be a spy before he got in a car accident."

"Yeah, Casey, just let it go," said Sarah.

Chuck could already tell that it was going to be hard to recruit Casey. The man really was a freaking Boy Scout!

"Is my plan okay, or…?" his voice trailed off as Sarah and Casey exchanged another look.

"We'll go along with it," Casey grumbled. "But you're still going to keep your mouth shut during this operation, is that clear?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "I'm not cool with having to be a jerk though."

"Yeah, well, we can't risk you slipping up and giving away our cover," said Casey. "And seeing as everyone already knows who you are, we can't give you another identity."

"But don't worry, Chuck," Sarah piped up. "This will probably be the only time you'll be out in the field with us, and nothing dangerous is going to happen. They won't even know we stole their data."

"Oh, well, I'm a little worried now." Chuck scratched his arm. Hadn't it occurred to them, the CIA or the NSA, that if Fulcrum or the Ring found out that he was helping them, then Fulcrum or the Ring would come after him? "What happens if you guys get made?"

"What do you mean?" asked Sarah.

"What if your enemies see you with me? Wouldn't they assume that I'm working for you guys?"

"News flash, Bartowski, our enemies already _know_ that you're working for us, remember?" Casey knocked his knuckles painfully on the top of Chuck's head. Chuck had to fight to restrain himself from flashing. "Did you forget about the telecommunication satellites that you've made for us?"

"Oh. Yeah," Chuck admitted.

"If our enemies do decide to make a move for you, we'll have an extraction plan ready," Sarah reassured.

"What about Ellie and Devon?"

"Them too," she replied, giving Chuck a tight lipped smile.

"Do we tell Ellie that you guys are spies?"

"We can't," said Casey. "Too risky. You have to keep her in the dark to keep her safe."

Well, that's just _dandy_. First, he had to lie to Ellie about what he does while he's out on his father's missions, and now he had to lie about how he's working with a bunch of government agents? They should really make a movie about his life.

He glanced over at Sarah. "So…we have to lie to her about our fake relationship?"

"I'm afraid so, Chuck," she replied grimly. "I'm sorry. I know this is hard—"

"Not your fault," he reminded her. However, she continued to look grim—almost guilty.

"When's your sister moving out?" Casey barked, causing Chuck to snap his neck toward him.

"I got her and her boyfriend, Devon, a house last week. You know, engagement gift," he replied. "I was going to wait until Devon proposes to her to surprise them, but I guess I can just tell her sometime this week?"

"Right, well, tell her that you hired me to be your…_butler _later tonight." Casey gave a shudder. "I move in tomorrow morning."

Chuck glanced at the pistol that Casey had holstered on his belt. "Do you have to bring your guns?"

"Yup."

"There's no way you can just leave your guns here?"

"I don't go anywhere without them." Casey patted his gun almost lovingly, causing Chuck to grimace at the sight.

"I don't know how I feel about having guns in my home. I have a very strict—"

For such a big guy, Casey moved pretty quickly. He had gotten up from his chair and was crouched down in front of Chuck; his face maybe an inch away from his. By this point, Chuck had forgotten that he had a super computer in his head as he let out a soft whine. "Well, I don't know how I feel about having to be your damn butler and not being able to snap your scrawny geek neck," spat Casey. "But I deal with it. Be a man, Bartowski," he added when Chuck gave a high pitched whimper.

"Casey!" Sarah snapped. "Calm down."

"I am calm," Casey retorted, patting Chuck roughly on his shoulder.

Sarah sighed in a _'Why me?' _fashion, and turned to Chuck. "Casey has to bring his guns with him in case someone infiltrates your house, Chuck," she explained, flashing a quick scowl in Casey's direction. "I know you don't like it, but it's just the way it has to be."

Chuck nodded to show that he understood. He didn't like the fact that there was going to be a small armory inside his home, but at least Ellie would be gone soon.

"Besides," Sarah continued. "He'll keep them well hidden."

Casey stood up from the couch. "I guess we're done for now," he grunted, making his way toward his desk. "Walker, you and Bartowski head over to Legend and fill out your paper work."

"C'mon, Chuck," said Sarah, getting off the couch as well. "Let's go."

He stood, and began to follow Sarah out the door. Before he stepped out, he gave Casey a cheerful wave. In turn, the larger man responded by cracking his neck and flashing Chuck the evil eye.

"We're going to be great friends, Casey and me," Chuck said, grinning to Sarah as they walked down the long hallway to the elevators. "I can just see it now: Me and Casey, staying up late at night, eating junk food, exchanging baseball cards and secrets. Should be fun, right?"

Sarah gave him a tight lipped, half smile, and shrugged. She pushed the button for the elevators. Chuck guessed that she was now in, "mission mode," as Bryce had called it. Thawing the ice queen was going to be tougher than he thought it would be.

"You want to go grab a bite to eat?" he asked. "Some brunch?"

The doors to the elevators slid open.

"Why, are you hungry?" she asked, stepping into the elevator.

"I had a bowl of cereal before I came here, so not really," he replied. "I just thought you might be."

"Don't worry about me."

He turned to face her, but she didn't meet his eyes. Instead, she just stared at the chrome elevator door, looking determined to not meet his gaze. He studied her briefly, and took the time to see just how exhausted she looked: her eyelids drooped, and her skin was devoid of the usual rosy blush.

"How could I not worry about you?" he asked. She finally met his gaze with a hint of sadness or regret in her eyes.

"I can take care of myself."

The elevator doors opened, and Chuck followed Sarah as she stepped out. They walked through the brightly lit lobby, and headed toward the parking lot. When he saw her car, he paused. An idea hit him.

"I need to go home and change," he said, gesturing to his casual t-shirt and jeans. "I can't go into the office like this."

Sarah stopped, and turned to give him a once over; a light look of disapproval began to etch on her face. "Okay, I'll drive you." She nodded toward her Porsche.

"I have my car." Chuck gestured toward his white M5.

"Fine, I'll follow you to your house."

"How big is the engine?"

"What?"

"On your Porsche?" Nodding pointedly toward her car, he grinned coyly.

"3.6 liter, H6 engine with twin turbo," she replied.

"How many horses?"

"460, give or take." She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I'll tell you what," he said grinning. He nodded over to his M5. "I'll race you back to my place. If I win, then you let me get you something to eat. If you win, then I'll just change and we'll head into the office."

Pursing her lips, she glanced up at him. Chuck could tell that she was fighting to keep a smile off her face. "C'mon, Walker," he teased. "I know you're hungry!"

"I don't think it's a good idea, Chuck," she said hesitantly. "Traffic's a bitch right now."

"Traffic's always a bitch," he retorted. "But I can see why you think it's a bad idea." He began to make a squawking noise, and flapped his arms up and down. "It's because you're a chicken, aren't ya? Afraid that you're going to lose?"

Her lips remained pursed, but they slowly cracked into a grin for the first time since he had arrived earlier that morning. "Your ass is _so_ going down," she purred, flashing another coy grin before she sprinted over to her car.

Chuckling, he sprinted over to his car, but Sarah had reached hers first. Before he was even able to start the engine, she had already peeled out of her parking spot. Looking down at the steering wheel, he cleared his mind. A second later, he flashed. He grinned widely when it had cleared, and he suddenly sensed the environment outside of the vehicle. It felt as though his body was a part of the car, and when he placed his hands on the steering wheel, everything just felt right; comfortable. "Sorry, Sarah," he said aloud as he maneuvered the gear shift on the steering wheel to first gear.

As he pressed down on the gas pedal, and released the clutch, the V-10 engine roared loudly. The tires squealed as they spun on the pavement, sending gravel, dust, and smoke up in the air. The car jolted forward, pushing his back against his seat. Letting the Intersect do all of the work, he guided the car left onto the street.

Sarah was stopped at the light a good five cars ahead of Chuck. Luckily for him, there was a yellow H2 Hummer in front of her, and a white, Ford F250 to her right. Unfortunately, by the way the good citizens of Los Angeles drove, being five cars behind the person you were racing was the equivalent of being a mile away. He turned into the left turning lane, and once again, he pressed down on the gas pedal. What he didn't expect, as he zoomed past three of the cars, was the car behind Sarah decided to turn into the turning lane as well. He let his right foot off the gas, and tapped it on the brake, while turning the steering wheel to the right to get back in the lane.

His car came to a halt right behind the Porsche. Chuck guessed that he had been about four to five inches from unintentionally rear-ending it. Even he knew enough about women to know that if a woman drove a Porsche, then rear-ending her car, intentionally or not, would result with him in a full-body cast.

When the lights turned green, he and Sarah both moved into the empty, left turning lane, and sped past the yellow Hummer in time for both of them to slide back into the proper lane. He was surprised to notice that he wasn't too far behind her. By all means, with her car's twin turbochargers, along with it being a lot lighter than his, she should have been a good five meters ahead of him. Instead, he was right on her tail.

He turned into the middle lane, and shifted up to Fourth gear. He was right next to Sarah now. Glancing over to his left, he noticed a deep look of concentration on Sarah's face as she flicked her eyes back and forth from the road to Chuck. He quickly approached an old, slow moving, clunky, light blue VW Beetle. He flashed a wink in Sarah's direction, down shifted, and turned into the far, right lane. He shifted back up to Fourth, and flew past Sarah and the old VW.

For the next couple of minutes, he swerved throughout the three lanes of traffic; being cautious to the other cars around him, so he wouldn't cause an accident. Sarah followed closely behind, mimicking his moves. When he approached the northbound I-5 on-ramp to Burbank, an old, maroon Corolla turned into his lane, causing his foot to slam down on the brake, and allowing Sarah to speed past him.

Grumbling to himself, Chuck turned right into Sarah's lane. Once again, she was ahead of him, and was expertly maneuvering through traffic. But thanks to the Intersect, he was able to squeeze past the other cars, and was now by Sarah's side once more.

After nearly twenty minutes of weaving around traffic, he and Sarah were neck and neck with each other. Occasionally, he would gain the lead, but she was quick to gain it back. When they approached the nearly empty off-ramp toward Burbank, Chuck sighed. He didn't want it to come to this, but if he wanted to win, he had no other choice.

The M5 came installed with two modes: a city mode, and the M mode. When in city mode, the car had a horsepower of around 400. However, when the car was in M mode, it increased the horsepower to 500, sometimes even topping off at 507. As Sarah's car only had a horsepower of 460, and he also had the Intersect's help, he figured it would be extremely unfair to her to switch on the M mode.

But there was less traffic in Burbank, and it was pretty much a dead straight away from the I-5 off-ramp to his house. Without the M mode, Sarah would be able to beat him. There was no way that Chuck was going to allow that to happen. Not because he was competitive (the only time Competitive Chuck spawned was when he was playing _Call of Duty_, and even then, compared to everyone else in the _CoD_ community, he was hardly combative), but it was due to the fact that he had a strong desire to get some food inside Sarah. Growing up with Ellie, who had always aspired to be a doctor since she was six-years-old, had taught him that everyone needed a good meal to start off their day. And Sarah, he knew, did not eat her breakfast this morning.

His thumb hovered over the M button on the steering wheel. Inhaling in a deep breath, he pressed it over the button, and immediately, his car roared into a second, more powerful life. With his right foot pressed down on the gas pedal, he once again sped past Sarah, and pushed aside his guilt. After all, it _was_ for an excellent cause that he pushed the button.

When he was half a mile away from his house, he pressed down on the "Call" button on the left side of his steering wheel. He needed to call Ellie so that she could open the gates. With Sarah close behind him, if he had to stop in front of the gates so he could open them, she would just whizz by, and declare herself the winner.

"_Who would you like to call_?" a woman's monotonous voice sounded from his car speakers.

"Ellie Bartowski, cell," he enunciated, making a right turn into a smaller, paved road that led up to his house.

"_I'm sorry, I didn't get that,_" the woman droned, causing Chuck to roll his eyes in frustration. "_Who would you like to call_?"

"El-lee Bar-tow-_ski_, cell!" he said as clearly as his voice allowed (which in his opinion, was pretty damn clear).

"_You want to call Ellie Bartowski, cell, is that correct?_"

"Yes!"

The dial tone rang, and on the third tone, Chuck heard his sister's voice saying, "Hey, little brother, what's up?"

"Ellie, open the gates!" he called. It would be a minute before he would be at his house, and the gates took a good twenty seconds to open. "Open the gates!"

_Fifty-five seconds_…

"Chuck, what's going on—?"

"I'll explain in a bit! Just open the gates!" he yelled, glancing up to the rearview mirror, and seeing that Sarah wasn't too far behind him.

"Okay, okay! Sheesh!" Ellie exclaimed. "All right, I'm opening the gates now."

"Thanks, Elle!" Chuck released the call button on the steering wheel. He would be approaching the gates in less than thirty seconds.

Making a sharp left turn, he accelerated toward his house. The gates were halfway open, and in his mind, he tried to determine whether he could maintain the acceleration, or if he should let his foot off the pedal. Seeing that he would most likely tear the gates of their hinges if he maintained his speed, he released the gas pedal, and shifted down a gear. He just barely squeezed past the gates, but Sarah was right behind him. They still had another 200 yards to go before they reached his house.

The path was wide enough so that Sarah was on his right side. They shared a glance. Chuck had a panicked look on his face, while Sarah still had the determined look etched on hers. At the same time, they floored their gas pedals, and they both launched forward. Sarah accelerated ahead of him by a nose, but once Chuck shifted up to Third, he was in the lead by a whole car length. Seconds later, they squealed to a halt in front of the stairs that led to the entrance to Chuck's house.

As he stepped out of his car, he felt his flash fading into nothing more than a memory. He grinned at Sarah who was also stepping out of her car, and threw up his fists in the air. "I win!"

Sarah slammed her car door with such a tremendous force, that Chuck began to wonder how the car didn't topple sideways. "Are you crazy, Chuck?"

His grin faded. She must have not been that hungry at all if she was getting this furious over losing a race. "What? What do you mean?"

Sarah stepped up close to him; her face twisted in fury. She grabbed his shoulders tightly, and gave him a tiny shake. "You were driving like a maniac! You could have hurt yourself or somebody else!"

"Sarah, I—I'm sorry!" he sputtered. The Intersect wouldn't have allowed him to do anything _too_ reckless, but Sarah didn't need to know that. "I just got…excited, I guess! I wasn't thinking—whoa!"

She swept his feet out from underneath him, and he fell to his back. His heart began to race in fear for his life as it flashed before his eyes. But then she did something that he never expected: she grinned playfully down at him, and turned to sprint up the stairs to his front door. When she reached the top, she placed her hand on the door, and turned to grin down at Chuck, who was still on his back, and was still extremely confused as to what the hell just happened.

Sarah bobbed her head side to side. "I beat you to your house, so technically, I win!" she called, still grinning.

Chuck stumbled up to his feet, still unable to comprehend the situation. He looked up at her at the top of the stairs. "What?"

"You said that we were going to race to your house," she called. "Technically, _this_ is your house!" She nodded pointedly behind her to his house. "And you're still in the courtyard, and I'm up here, so I win!"

He slapped his arms down in defeat, and made his way up the stairs. "So you found a loophole, I see." Upon seeing the wild and playful look on her face, he couldn't help but grin back. "Good game, Walker."

"Well, you should remember how much I hate losing," she said, shrugging. "I am _very_ competitive."

"Tell me something I don't know." Chuck reached over, and turned the doorknob. Technically, Sarah _did_ win. After all, he never specified that whoever got to his house by car first was the winner. "Just give me a few minutes to change, then," he said. "Ellie's home. I thought I should let you know."

Sarah nodded. "Okay. Well, get dressed, and then we'll head out," she said. "You can buy me brunch before we head into the office."

After a moment of being completely flabbergasted, Chuck caught on to her words. His face broke into a grin.

"C'mon, Chuck," she said, grinning as she gestured to the door. "We don't have all day."

* * *

**LAX  
3:45 PM**

No matter what day of the week it was, LAX was always crowded with people from all over the world. Chuck sat next to Sarah, who was once again in her silent spy mode, and he gazed around the baggage terminal at the hundreds of faceless people saying their goodbyes or hellos.

The last couple of hours that he had spent with Sarah had been like an epic rollercoaster ride. One minute, she'd be in her professional spy mode, responding to his questions with one word answers. The next minute would pass, and then she'd be cracking jokes with him, but the second she realized that her guard was down, she'd go back into her spy mode.

It couldn't be easy for her, he thought. From what Bryce had told him, handlers weren't supposed to get close to their assets. Even James Bond would have trouble trying to distance himself if he had an asset who just happened to also be his childhood friend.

Whenever the moments of Sarah letting her guard down came, her eyes would shine brightly. Whenever Chuck would make her laugh, her hand would always find a place on Chuck's arm, or his shoulders, or even his own hand. Before she would pull her hand away, she always made sure to give his arm, or his shoulder, or his hand a gentle squeeze. It was moments like that that made him wish that they had reunited under different circumstances.

It was hard for him as well. Chuck had never been a good liar. Although, technically, he wasn't lying to her, he was still keeping her in the dark. There was nothing he wanted more than to tell Sarah the truth. To tell her that he was Osiris, and _why_ he had to be Osiris. But his father, as paranoid as he was, had a point. Sarah wouldn't understand. Not yet, she wouldn't. She would just think he was crazy.

"Has Bryce ever told you about Carina?" Sarah asked.

Chuck nodded. "He's mentioned her a few times," he replied. "After his accident."

"What did he say about her?"

"I know he misses her," he said. "But all he told me was that they were…dating, or whatever spies do."

"Is that all?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So you don't know what she's like?"

Chuck laughed. "All I know is that she must be something special if a man-whore like Bryce was that crazy about her."

"Yeah, Carina's a good person," said Sarah. "But the thing about her is that she is unpredictable. She likes to improvise. Sometimes I would spend hours planning a mission, and Carina would just do her own thing."

"Okay…?" he asked, waiting for Sarah to finish.

"There will probably come a time when we have a mission that doesn't involve you," said Sarah. Chuck tried very hard not to roll his eyes. Every one of their missions would probably involve him in one form or another. "When that happens, two of us, it could be me and Casey, Carina and Casey, or me and Carina, are going to have to stay with you to make sure that you're protected. If Carina stays with you, just…be cautious."

He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. "What? Is she like…going to try to kill me?"

She shook her head gravely. "She won't do that, but she'll probably try to…sleep with you."

He choked on a bit of spit, and began to cough. "Wha-what?" he gasped. "Why would she—? I would never—"

"That's how she is," said Sarah. She blushed a bit, and added in a quieter voice, "And she's also…_pretty_."

"So? C'mon, Sarah," he said, chuckling. "I couldn't do that to Bryce. We live by the Bro Code. We would never mess around with the girls that the other fancies."

Sarah nudged him with her elbow. "She's here," she said, nodding pointedly.

Chuck turned to where she was nodding, and he saw a tall, red headed woman walking toward him as if she were walking on a runway. She was wearing a black, tight pencil skirt and a grey blouse. When she approached Sarah, they exchanged words in what Chuck guessed was Elvish, and he noticed her cold, grey blue eyes.

Carina turned to him, and winked. "So you must be my boss, huh?" She stepped up close to him, and he felt her eyes scanning his body, sending a chill up his spine. "Maybe this assignment won't be so boring after all," she whispered playfully into his ear.

Chuck gulped. "Uh…hello, I'm Chu-Chuck," he stammered, backing away when Carina had brushed her hand along his arm.

"Well, nice to meet you, '_Chu-Chuck_,'" she mimicked. "I'm Carina."

Sarah grabbed Chuck's arm. "You could just ignore her," she said, pulling him away. "She just likes to make guys nervous. Casey likes to call her Whorina, but she's harmless."

"I can see why Bryce liked her," he remarked softly.

Somehow Carina seemed to have heard him. Her eyes darted between Chuck and Sarah. "Did he just say Bryce?"

"Yeah," Sarah replied. "They've been friends since they went to Stanford together. Bryce works at his company."

"He goes by Bruce Leonard now, actually," he chimed in. "I feel that's really important to mention, seeing that we're all going to be working together."

"Larkin's on the assignment?" Carina asked.

"What? No," Chuck laughed. "Didn't you hear Sarah? He works at Legends. I say again, he goes by Bruce now."

Carina let out a sardonic laugh. "Fucking bastard," she spat. "Damn coward."

That was not the reaction he was hoping from her. He was expecting tears to well up in her eyes, and declarations of lost love found again. But the F-bomb followed by "bastard?" That couldn't be good. "I think he's an okay guy," Chuck defended.

"Oh yeah? Well, he's a coward."

He figured repeating something to prove a point was a spy tactic. Carina had called Bryce a coward two times in the last twenty seconds. Last night, Bryce kept telling Chuck that he had to be charming, but when Chuck asked how, Bryce replied, "Just charm her, Chuck." In Chuck's opinion, saying something over and over was a terrible way to make a point.

"Let's go," said Sarah, linking her arms around Chuck's.

"Marking your territory already, I see," said Carina, following behind Chuck and Sarah.

Chuck turned back to see that Carina had been staring at his and Sarah's linked arms.

"Our cover is boyfriend and girlfriend," said Sarah, not bothering to turn around. "We're just selling the cover."

"It's only me," Carina reminded, giving Sarah a knowing look.

"Chuck's a very important person," said Sarah. "We have to maintain our cover in case we run into someone who'd recognize him."

"Before this mission, I didn't know who he was," said Carina, adding, "No offense."

Chuck waved off her comment. "None taken."

Carina gave Chuck a knowing wink, and they continued walking to the baggage carousels. As usual, he was confused. When it came to women, he was always confused. Even if some magical, genius of a man wrote a book about women, Chuck knew he wouldn't understand them. Was Carina right, and Sarah was, as she had put it, "marking her territory?" No, she was wrong. Sarah was a professional, and _she_ did make a good point. He didn't like to toot his own horn, but he was fairly well known. But they still hadn't told anyone that they were in a relationship, albeit a fake relationship, yet. They hadn't even told Ellie, and they had seen her about three hours ago.

They arrived at the baggage carousel just in time to see the first bag sliding down. Unlinking his arm from Sarah's, he pushed his way through the crowd. "What does your bag look like?" he called over his shoulder to Carina.

"It's a Louis," she called.

"Yeah, that doesn't mean anything to me."

"Louis Vuitton? You know, those brown suitcases with the 'Ls' and the 'Vs' all over them?"

Chuck thought for a moment, and then he remembered Jill being excited over getting one of those Louis Vuitton purses a couple of Christmases ago. He personally thought they were ugly, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he nodded to show Carina that he understood, and turned to the baggage carousel.

Ten minutes later, they were back on the road. For the first time, Chuck was riding in the passenger seat of his car. Sarah had insisted that she drive instead of him, saying that if he drove, Carina would just try to distract him. At first, he didn't know exactly _how_ Carina would have distracted him. After awhile, however, he understood.

Whenever Carina spoke to him, she would breathe her words close to his ear. Whether she was doing this intentionally or not, it was quite distracting, as she caused chills to run down his spine (in a bad way). Chuck had always been afraid of overly bold women, but now, he understood why Bryce had settled down with Carina. She was his type. She was bold. Nearly every statement that came out of her mouth was an innuendo of some sort—the type of humor that Bryce enjoyed.

"So, Boss, what do I call you at the office?" Carina asked softly into Chuck's ear, causing him to cower away slightly. "Do you prefer I call you Chucky, Charles, or Mister," Carina clutched her hand tightly on Chuck's thigh, making him let out a high pitched squeal. "Bartowski?"

Sarah pulled Carina's hand away from his thigh. "Carina, come on!"

"What?" Carina cried innocently. "This assignment's _boring_! I just want to have some fun! I bet Chuckles here wouldn't mind?"

"Actually," he said, cutting off Carina. "I _would_ mind."

"Oh, so you're gay?"

He felt his face flushing. "No!" he cried. "It's just…you and…_Bryce_ have history, and…yeah. Bro Code!"

Carina snorted. "The two of us may have _had_ history together, but _we're_ history. He's just…a goddamn coward!"

Chuck glanced over at Sarah who just shrugged in response. If Carina didn't want to reconnect with Bryce, it could lead to a lot of problems, and Chuck really didn't want even more speed bumps added to the recruiting mission. Casey was going to be difficult enough, and he was just plain scared to tell Sarah.

"What do you mean, he's a coward?"

"He's a coward," said Carina bluntly, leaning back in the backseat and crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

"Yeah, you can keep saying that, but that doesn't help me to understand why you keep calling him a coward," said Chuck, causing Sarah to come out of her spy mode and laugh.

Carina waved a hand. "Whatever Bryce and I had, it's over now. It's been over for a long time."

Chuck sighed, and looked out his window. It seemed that Bryce wouldn't be able to recruit Carina after all, and it would be up to Chuck to recruit her. He guessed that Carina was the kind of woman who kept herself guarded. Sure, she made it seem like she was some nymphomaniac that preyed on men, but just by speaking to her for the last ten minutes, he realized that deep down, Carina was just a woman who had been hurt by someone she loved.

His thoughts slipped free from his mind as he heard his engine roar. All of a sudden, he was pressed back into his seat as the car began to accelerate faster. He turned to Sarah, who was glaring accusatively at him.

She pointed to the M button. "_This_ was how you beat me in the race earlier, wasn't it?" she demanded, as she weaved his car quickly between traffic.

"Well, yeah," he admitted. "But it wasn't cheating. It came with the car!"

* * *

**Santa Monica Pier**  
**7:32 PM**

When Chuck was a little boy, he always thought that being a billionaire would make life better for him. As he grew older, and became a teenager, he believed that if he had money, then he could impress any girl in the world. But the brutal truth was that it wasn't easy. Sometimes, he'd want to take a date out to a fancy restaurant, and they'd be immediately turned off by him because they thought he was being smug. Other times, he'd take another date out for a low profile, fast food and a movie date, and he'd be shut down because they believed that he was being cheap.

So he had spent the last four hours, sitting by himself on Casey's couch, silently wondering where he should take Sarah for dinner, while the spies tried to figure out a way to bait Osiris out of hiding. But as he and Sarah were leaving Casey's room, he realized that all he had to do was _ask_ her what she wanted to do. Of course she said no, but that had given him the opportunity to suggest the pier.

And now, they walked along the mostly empty pier, munching on some tacos they had gotten by a nearby vendor in silence while they just enjoyed the cool night. He followed Sarah as she walked over to the railings, and leaned her elbows against them as she gazed out atthe ocean. Chuck took one last bite of his taco, and tossed the Styrofoam container into a nearby trashcan. He leaned over the railing next to her. As the wind blew, he breathed in the smell of the ocean, and her flower scented hair.

They stood in a comfortable silence. The only sounds were from the waves gently crashing against the shore, and some faint, folk music from a man playing his guitar across the pier. Chuck would steal glances at Sarah, and he would see a content expression on her face. Sometimes, she would close her eyes as if she wanted her other senses to take over, as if she wanted to properly feel the cool wind against her skin, to taste the salt in the air, to smell the scent of the food from the vendors around them, and to listen to the waves.

She opened her eyes, and turned to Chuck. "We should discuss our cover."

And just like that, spy mode Sarah reappeared. Although he expected her to show up sooner or later, he couldn't help but feel a little crushed by her sudden appearance.

"What is there to discuss?"

"When do you want to tell Ellie about us?"

Chuck shrugged. He didn't want to lie to Ellie. She would be ecstatic upon hearing the news, but it wasn't real, and she deserved to hear something real. "I don't know. Do we have to tell her?"

"People are going to talk soon, Chuck," said Sarah. "Wouldn't you rather have her hear it from you than from a tabloid?"

"I would rather tell her that it was real," he blurted out. He quickly added, "What I meant was, that…Ellie's been worried about my…uh…love life. It's a little weird, but it's understandable, I guess. I haven't really…_dated_ anyone in a long time."

"I think you should tell her soon," said Sarah. "When you get home."

"Right," he said, deflated. He turned around to lean his back against the railing to face a closed pro surfboard shop. "So when we're out in public, we pretend like…we're a normal, happy couple, huh?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Like I said earlier, you're an easy person to recognize."

He let out a dry chuckle, remembering the day that Bryce had sent him a link to some gossip website with a picture of him and Ellie. The headline to that article read, _"Has Charles Bartowski Finally Found His Legendary Love?"_ God, that was awkward. He wondered what would happen if he and Sarah were caught on camera, and their pictures were posted all over the internet. "What happens if the bad guys find out about our fake relationship? Wouldn't they know that it's for cover? And what about when you eventually leave? The bad guys will know who you are, won't they?"

"My missions here will be low maintenance," she replied. "If there are any more enemy agents at your company, and we find them, they'll be imprisoned immediately."

"What if there _are_ enemy agents at my company, and they recognize who you are?"

"The thing about me is—" Sarah grinned over at Chuck. "I never leave witnesses. Perfect record."

He felt a cold tinge running down his spine as he remembered her shooting the man from the night before.

"Chuck?"

"Hmm?"

Sarah let out a breath. "I'm sorry."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Sarah," he said, chuckling. "You've apologized to me a million times today, and I always say the same thing. It's not your fault."

"No, I'm sorry for…" her voice trailed off. "This situation, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that you deserve something real," she said. "I've only been here for a couple of days, and already, it's obvious that you haven't changed too much since we were kids."

"Isn't that a bad thing?" he joked.

She chuckled and shook her head. "What I meant to say is that you're still you. You've always been a great person, even when we were kids. And you're still…great."

"Oh, please," he scoffed playfully. "I'm fantastic."

She adjusted herself so that she was facing him. She looked him in his eyes. "Yeah. You are."

His heart skipped a beat, as he felt his face begin to burn red.

"So what I'm sorry for is," she continued, "that I'll be holding you back from finding someone that you deserve. Someone that can make you happy…" her voice trailed off, and from the way she was biting her lower lip, he could tell that she wanted to say more.

After hearing those words, he couldn't help but feel hopeful. Not just in recruiting her for his team, but for their future together. Although her speech was based off the fact that she was a spy, he felt that despite that, she wanted something more. So he turned to face her, and he reached his hand out to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

"We should go," she said, taking a step back. "You still have to tell Ellie about Casey moving in to be your butler in the morning. You should also tell her about…us."

He felt like he had been stabbed in the chest by a knife upon hearing her words. But he put on a brave face, and he responded with a tight lipped smile. "Right."

"And tomorrow's a big night for you, Chuck," she said, leading the way back to his car. "You have your first mission. Get to bed early tonight, okay? Rest up."

"Yes'm," he said. As far as the mission tomorrow night, he knew it would be a piece of cake.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for reading! As per usual, reviews would be awesome!


	5. Exes and Douchebags

**A/N:** Sorry for taking forever to update! I had to get my wisdom teeth pulled out, and let me tell ya, trying to write while on Percocet is a terrible idea. Thanks to **mxpw**, who did an awesome job as usual beta-ing, this chapter is legible.

And again, thanks to you, the readers, for keeping up with this fic, and leaving reviews! It really means a lot!

* * *

**October 2, 2007  
Casa De Bartowski  
7:20 AM PST**

_Beep! Beep! Beep! _

Chuck reached his arm over to his nightstand and flipped off the alarm clock. He had been lying awake for the past four hours; lost in thought. The second he lied down on the mattress for bed last night, everything hit him all at once. What was he going to do about Operation Orion now that he had three handlers that were no doubt watching his every movement, and listening to his every word? Was his father going to just cut him from the team, and get Fleming to help him recruit another person for the Intersect? He didn't want that to happen. It was too risky. After what happened to Bryce, he couldn't bear to see anyone else end up the same way, or worse, lose their lives.

But if he can't figure out a way to sneak past his handlers, then his father would have no choice but to recruit someone else.

Then there was the fact that his handlers were after _him_. That is, they were after Osiris. His handlers weren't idiots. It was only a matter of time before they found him out. What would they do if they did? What would Sarah do? How would she react?

Another thing that was bothering him was Ellie. After living a life of feeling as though everyone he knew and loved had abandoned him, Ellie was the only person that was there for him. When their father left, she was seventeen, and ready to go off to UCLA. Instead, she went to night school for a couple of years so that she could take care of Chuck. Eventually she had received an anonymous donation (Chuck would later find out that the donation was from their parents), and she was able to enroll at UCLA.

But Chuck would forever be grateful for the fact that Ellie had worked so hard to take care of him; to make sure he had everything he needed. When Chuck had gotten accepted into Stanford, Ellie, already busy with school, helped him find and apply for scholarships. He was sure that without her help, he would have given up even looking for one. He owed everything he had to her.

He repaid her by lying to her about where he went at night. He repaid her by not telling her that he knows where their father is, and on occasion, he'll even talk to their mother. It just killed him inside. But what hurt him the most was the excited, happy look on Ellie's face when he told her that he and Sarah were "officially" dating. His heart had torn in two when Ellie had gripped him in her mother bear hug, telling him that she was happy for him, and that everything was going to be perfect for him now.

Chuck got out of bed, and made his way to the dresser. He grabbed an old, red Stanford T-shirt, and pulled it over his head as he walked out of his bedroom. When he had pulled the shirt down, he came face to face with a large man. Chuck let out a shrill yelp, and instinctively aimed a right hook at the man's face. The man caught Chuck by the wrist and twisted his arm, causing Chuck to flip over. Crashing down on the hardwood floor, a wave of pain surged through Chuck's spine. A shadow washed over him.

"If you didn't scream like a little girl," said Casey, staring down at Chuck with his usual scowl on his face. "You probably would have been able to land the punch."

"When—how did you get in here?" Chuck lifted himself up to his feet. Getting shot two nights ago, and having a bruise the size of Texas on his back because of the bullet, only made the pain of the fall that much worse.

"I told your sister that you gave me a spare key," Casey replied. "And I got here an hour ago."

"Right, well. I ask again," said Chuck. He paused, as he tried not to laugh at Casey's uniform: a black, long-tailed coat, a grey vest, a bow tie, and white gloves. Quickly, Chuck cleared his throat. "How did you get in here?"

Casey turned, and flicked Chuck's nose with his finger. It hurt like hell, and caused him to let out a sneeze. "A magician never reveals his secrets, Bartowski."

"That's funny, because you're dressed like a magician," Chuck blurted out, quickly adding, "Sorry."

The larger man grunted, and made his way down the spiraling staircase.

"Listen, Casey," Chuck called, following him. "I know that you didn't ask for this, and I'm sorry."

"Orders are orders, Bartowski," said Casey, finality in his tone.

As they neared the kitchen, Chuck smelled a delicious aroma in the air. "You already made breakfast?"

"Yep."

"What'd you make?"

"I made your sister a Denver omelet."

"Oh, I love Denver omelets!" Chuck exclaimed happily. "Thanks!"

Casey frowned. "I didn't think you would want one."

"Why wouldn't I want one?"

Casey shrugged. "You told me yesterday that you were fine with toast or cereal."

"Right," said Chuck, his face falling. "I guess I'll go with cereal then."

Chuck scowled as he walked into the kitchen to see Ellie tipping her plate over a trashcan. She was just about to flick the switch for the garbage disposal, when Casey spoke up. "Something wrong with your eggs, Dr. Bartowski?"

Ellie jumped in surprise, and clutched her chest. "What? Oh, uh…they were a bit salty."

"My apologies," said Casey, looking slightly forlorn. "How about I whip you up another omelet?"

"It's fine," Ellie replied, pouring a cup of coffee. "It's a little too much cholesterol for the morning."

"Would you like something else?"

"No, thank you, John." Ellie held up her coffee. "This will do."

"Right." Casey turned to Chuck. "What would you like for breakfast, Mr. Bartowski?" Casey mouthed, "You better say cereal."

For a moment, Chuck considered asking Casey to make him pancakes, but quickly set that idea aside. He reminded himself that he needed to get on Casey's good side. "Just cereal for me, thanks."

Chuck fixed himself a bowl of cereal. For a few silent seconds, Casey's eyes flicked between Chuck and Ellie. "Well, I'll just…uh…if you don't mind, I'll be in the pool house, setting up my things."

"Go right on ahead," Ellie said, smiling.

Casey gave a stiff bow—it looked more like a spasm—and stepped out of the kitchen.

While Chuck was pouring milk over his Lucky Charms, Ellie made her way to a stool and sat down. "How was the omelet?"

Ellie looked over her shoulder to see if Casey was out of earshot and back to Chuck. "You know how there's probably a cup of sugar for every bowl of Lucky Charms you eat?"

Chuck nodded.

"Yeah, well, it's like that, except instead of sugar, I think he put in a cup of salt."

He chuckled, and swallowed another bite of cereal. "He's not really a cook, but at least he's trying. I just see him as a personal assistant. Someone to help me out a bit when you move out." Upon seeing his sister's face falling, Chuck quickly added, "It's good that he can't cook because it'll motivate me to learn for myself."

"I just feel bad about leaving," said Ellie.

Chuck waved off the statement. "There's nothing you need to feel bad for, Elle," he said, smiling. "Remember what I said whenever you asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up?"

Ellie laughed. "Big boy."

"That's right," said Chuck. "While I'll forever be grateful for everything you've done for me, I don't think that living with my older sister really qualifies me as being a big boy. Besides, you deserve to do something to help you grow and be happy. Devon's the guy that can help you do those things."

"Yeah, I know," she said, sighing. "Well, at least you won't be completely alone."

"What do you mean?"

Ellie flashed an incredulous look. "Really, Chuck? You're dating Sarah!"

"Oh…right," said Chuck, scratching the top of his head. The thought slipped his mind. "Yeah, I've got Sarah."

"Do you guys want to go out to dinner with Devon and me tonight?"

Lying to Ellie about the Osiris missions was one thing. At the very least, if she found out that Chuck had been lying to her about where he went at night, the only person she'd be angry at was him. But lying to Ellie about Sarah, not only about their relationship, but that she was in the CIA, and she was only "dating" him for cover? That would just break his sister's heart.

Chuck shuffled the cardboard-like flakes to one side of the bowl, so that he could save the sugar-blasted marshmallows for last. "Actually, Sarah and I already made plans. I'm sorry, Elle. You and Dev usually have Saturday nights off, don't you? We could all go out then."

"Fine," Ellie huffed playfully. She got out of her chair. "Well, I'm going to get ready for work."

"Okay," said Chuck, watching Ellie leaving the kitchen. "Later, sis."

* * *

**October 2, 2007  
Legend Enterprises  
9:15 AM PST**

He stepped out of the elevator on the third floor, and weaved through the maze of cubicles. Reaching the end of the hallway, Chuck saw that Sarah left her office door wide open as she typed away on her computer. She had her hair up in an elegant bun and was wearing a pale blue blouse with a white high waist skirt.

Chuck gently tapped the doorframe with his knuckles, his other hand behind him. "Knock, knock," he called.

She turned on her chair. "Oh, morning, Chuck," she said, smiling. "What's up?"

"Just stopping by to see how you were adjusting on your first day," he replied, stepping into her cubicle. He nodded to the computer screen. "But it looks like you're already hard at work. Already looking for a promotion?"

Sarah chuckled. "What can I say? I'm a fast learner." Noticing that he had one of his hands behind his back, she asked, "What do you have there?"

Smiling, Chuck revealed a vase of a variety of flowers. "I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked, so I got you a little bit of everything," he said, shrugging. He placed the flowers on her desk. "Let's see, here…" The florist had told him earlier what flowers were what, but as he stared at the arrangement of mostly white flowers, he realized that he had forgotten what most of them were. "Well, obviously, these are roses. And uh…I think these bad boys are daisies? I honestly have no idea what these are…" he trailed off, as he fingered a white flower that looked like white roses, but with looser petals.

"Gardenias," said Sarah, smiling bashfully. "They're my favorite. Thank you, Chuck. You really didn't have to do this."

"Aw, of course I did!" he insisted, leaning down closer to her ear. "Besides," he whispered, "every girl deserves some flowers on her first day of work."

"Thanks again, Chuck. They're beautiful."

"You're welcome." He tipped his head, and gave Sarah a wink.

"So where are Carina's flowers?" she asked, smirking.

"Why would I get her flowers?"

"You just told me that every girl deserves flowers on her first day at work," said Sarah, her smirk breaking into a wide grin.

"Okay, I got you the flowers because I thought…I don't know, I thought it would be nice?" he offered, defeated. There was another reason why he brought her flowers, but he wasn't going to say that aloud.

Sarah breathed in the perfume from the flowers. Then she stood from her chair, and wrapped her arms tightly around Chuck.

"Thanks again," she said softly, as she pecked his cheek with her lips.

When Sarah loosened her arms around him, she took a step back. Chuck could still feel a pleasant tingle on his cheek where Sarah's lips made contact. But as he stood there, his mouth slightly gaped, he realized that he must have looked awfully odd.

"Are you okay?" asked Sarah concernedly.

"What? Oh! Yeah," said Chuck, chuckling nervously. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You look pretty tired," she replied. "How'd you sleep last night?"

Chuck let out a long breath. "To be honest, I didn't get much sleep," he said, leaning against the partition.

Sarah sat back down on her chair. As her eyes scanned him, he felt like he was getting X-Rayed.

She crossed her arms. "How come?"

"It's been a tough year," he replied, flashing a tight-lipped smile.

"I could imagine. Finding out that your ex is a part of an evil, secret organization? That can't be easy."

It took a moment for Chuck to realize that Sarah was talking about Jill. He almost blurted "The CIA isn't a secret organization," but then he realized that he and Sarah never _really_ dated.

"Right," he said, nodding. "But I think the thing that's bothering the most is the fact that _The OC_ was cancelled earlier this year."

"Is that a show?" asked Sarah, still looking dumbfounded.

"It _was_ a show," said Chuck. "A really addicting show at that."

"Hmm."

"I would watch it with Ellie," he explained. "We would laugh, and we would cry—sometimes we'd yell whenever Marissa did something stupid, which was pretty much every episode." Chuck sighed, feeling slightly nostalgic, and looked down at his watch. Although he was the top guy, he liked to set an example. Showing up late for work because he was busy flirting with his fake girlfriend would make not only him look bad, but Sarah as well. "I should go check in upstairs. Don't want the shareholders to think I'm slacking, you know?"

"For sure," she said, nodding. "Do you want to go out for lunch later?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "12:30 okay?"

"Sounds good," Sarah replied, smiling. "Thanks again for the flowers."

"You're welcome! Well, I'll see you later, Sarah."

"Bye, Chuck."

Chuck gave Sarah one last smile before he stepped out of her cubicle. Once again, he weaved through the maze of desk clusters and cubicles, and back over to the elevator. After he pressed the "Up" button, he leaned his shoulder against the wall.

He stepped into the crowded elevator, and pushed the button for the top floor. After the usual, "Good morning, Mr. Bartowski" greetings from the people inside of the elevator, everyone fell silent.

He noticed that Sarah was more chipper today than she was yesterday. Maybe she had found a medium—a mix between her spy mode and her more chipper mode? While it was confusing, he did prefer this "medium mode" Sarah more than the rollercoaster one. But then again, they had only talked for less than five minutes. For all he knew, she could go back to Emotional Rollercoaster Sarah when they went out to lunch later.

Women—they truly were life's unsolvable puzzle.

* * *

**October 2, 2007  
Chuck's Office  
11:37 AM PST**

Chuck had been reading some reports written by, Glen Stacey, the CFO of his company. Essentially, he was supposed to sign off on which departments deserved higher budgets, and which departments were going to have to make budget cuts.

He tossed the report down on his desk, and looked around his office. A year ago, when he was dating Jill for the second time, she told him that his office needed a few homey touches. His office was now decorated with two loveseats, a large coffee table, a plasma screen TV, an Xbox, and a mini-bar.

He was extremely tired. For the last three nights, he probably only had an average of two to three hours of sleep. Getting up from his chair, Chuck walked to the other end of his office, and grabbed a Red Bull from the mini-fridge. He cracked open the can, and took a long sip.

When he sat back down behind his desk, Carina walked in, carrying even more reports for him to read over.

"Oopsie!" She dropped the stack of folders right next to his desk. Chuck bent down to pick them up, but Carina grabbed his wrist. "Don't worry about it, boss," she said, winking. "I got it."

Carina turned around, so that her back was facing Chuck, and she slowly bent down. Her skirt began to hike up. He quickly averted his eyes, but not quickly enough to see Carina holding a tiny black object in her hand. A wave crashed over him.

**Map of Moscow  
GLG-20  
Short-range listening device  
Map of Moscow**

Chuck fought the urge to detach the bug from the leg of his desk. He felt violated. While he had guessed that the CIA would want to keep him monitored, it seemed to him that the courteous thing for them to do is tell him that they needed to plant listening devices in his office. Casey would probably have had his whole house bugged by the time he got home. It wasn't like he was a criminal. He knew why they wanted his office bugged. They were for his protection, but all the same, he felt violated.

As Carina straightened up to put the folders on his desk, Chuck quickly blinked the flash away.

"Clumsy little me," she cooed. "So, Chucky, how about you and I get some lunch in a little bit? You've been working _so_ hard! You deserve a break."

He opened his mouth to tell her that he already had lunch plans with Sarah, but before the words could come out, Bryce came into his office. Carina's face went from playful and flirtatious to an icy glare when she saw Bryce. It felt as though the temperature in the room dropped.

"Hey, Carina," said Bryce in his usual cocky tone. "Did you miss me?"

Carina snapped her head back to Chuck. "If you need anything, just let me know, Mr. Bartowski." Without another word, she dashed for the door.

Bryce grabbed her wrist. He gave her a wink. "It still works, you know." His eyes flicked down pointedly to his lap.

The redhead snatched her arm back, and never in Chuck's life has he seen such an angry expression on a woman. "You're such an asshole."

After Carina stomped out of his office, Chuck shook his head at Bryce. "_Dude_, seriously?"

As Bryce wheeled himself over, he flashed Chuck a grin and shrugged. "I thought she'd want to know." He handed Chuck yet another stack of folders. "You need to look over those immediately. The marketing guys say they need more funding, and they wanted me to ask you if you could approve."

Chuck rolled his eyes, and opened the top folder. It wasn't another budget request, but rather, a note.

_Your office is bugged_—Thanks for the newsflash, Dan Rathers, Chuck thought—_I'm going to hand you a pair of sunglasses, saying that you left them in my office on Friday. It's an update. We're going to be passing you coded messages from now on to let you know what you have to do, and this update will help you decipher the codes. Read this part aloud—_

"This is garbage, man," said Chuck, turning on his paper shredder. "Tell Jerry in marketing that we need to put all of our focus on the L-Phone release for now."

"What am I, a messenger?" Bryce placed a hand in his coat pocket. "Here," he held up a pair of sunglasses. "You left them in my office last Friday."

Before he reached over to take the glasses, Chuck put the note through the paper shredder. "Thanks. I've been looking for these."

"No problem," said Bryce, wheeling himself backwards. "Well, just look over the reports, and I'll be back later to see what you think, all right?"

"Sounds good," said Chuck. "Oh, I was supposed to ask you, do you think you can write me up a business plan to start a nightclub chain?"

"You're thinking about starting a nightclub chain now?" Bryce played along. "Where?"

"You know, here, New York, Vegas…pretty much all of the major cities," said Chuck. "Do you think you can write up a quick run down by tomorrow?"

"I'll have it ready for you by tonight," said Bryce, winking.

"Thanks, man."

"I'm going to get back to work. You need anything else?"

Chuck shook his head.

"Okay, then I'll see you later."

"Yep. Take it easy, man."

Bryce nodded, and began to head out of Chuck's office. Chuck held up the sunglasses. The note had told him to put them on once Bryce had left, but he was supposed to meet up with Sarah in thirty minutes. What if he passed out?

Reluctantly, Chuck brought up the sunglasses and placed them over his eyes. Red letters sprawled across: _Ocular Identification Complete—Intersect Update in Progress_.

A series of images flipped faster than the eye could see through the lenses, and Chuck's eyes were twitching uncontrollably. His head felt heavy. For the second time in two days, he passed out from an Intersect update.

**

* * *

**

"Chuck? Hey, Chuck! Wake up!"

Chuck woke with a start. His head ached, and there were fuzzy images of old buildings, mountains, lakes, and random portraits still flickering. He tried to blink them away as he looked up to see a blurry Sarah hunched over him.

"Oh…hey, Sarah," he groaned, rubbing his temples. "What are you doing here?"

"It's ten till one," said Sarah, looking befuddled. "We were supposed to go get lunch twenty minutes ago."

"Wow! I'm so sorry!" he cried. "I must have dozed off."

"I don't blame you," she said, gesturing at all of the reports on Chuck's desk. "I always thought CEOs just sat around their office and drank scotch."

Chuck laughed. "That's what I thought too, but it looks like we were both wrong."

Sarah picked up one of the folders that Bryce had left and weighed it in her hands. "God, you read through all of these? Is that how your typical days go?"

He nodded. "Indeed." Chuck took the folder from Sarah.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving." She patted her stomach. "You ready to go?"

He looked down at the folder, and back up at Sarah. "Can you give me like five minutes? I just want to skim through this really quick, and we can be on our way." Holding the folder up, Chuck offered Sarah a crooked grin.

Sarah groaned. "Fine, but if we come back late, I'm pretty sure Linda is going to be pissed."

Linda Jenkins was the head of human resources for Legends' corporate branch.

"It'll be fine," said Chuck. "I'm your boss's, boss's, boss. If they give you any crap, I'll have a word with them."

"Ooh, big man on campus!" she quipped, giggling.

Chuck shrugged, and opened up the folder. "Five minutes, okay?"

"_Fine_," she playfully huffed, walking over to one of the loveseats.

Exhaling a breath, Chuck looked down at the report that Bryce had given him. Immediately, he felt a flash coming. What seemed like a regular budget report now revealed a hidden message.

_Fulcrum is using the Demetrios family to leave a dummy trail for the CIA to their intel. Athena _(Jill)_ informed us that Fulcrum moved their headquarters to Virginia. Cygnus _(Bryce)_ is going to set up a fake business trip for you to go to Virginia on Thursday morning. Hansen is going to have to go with you. Fake an illness, and tell her to go to the meeting to take notes for you. The meeting is going to be a business dinner, around 8:00 PM EST. It'll last until 11:00 PM EST at the latest. You will have two hours to break into Fulcrum's HQ, and extract the intel. _

_The base is located at the Prewitt Building in Richmond, VA. _

_Cygnus will have an identical suitcase to yours with all of the Osiris equipment. Make the exchange an hour before your flight. _

_If you need to make contact with me, sign on to your Xbox Live account. We'll communicate that way. Most likely, the NSA wouldn't have had that line bugged, but double check to be sure._

_Orion_

Chuck grabbed a pen to sign his name at the bottom of the page. When he was done scribbling his signature, he closed the folder.

His father really knew how to plan ahead.

Still, he had his worries about his next mission. Although he had played Perchik in his high school's production of _Fiddler on the Roof_, he was never good at pretending to be sick. It could have been due to the fact that Ellie was born with a sixth sense for detecting illnesses in others, but he had never been able to fake sick with her.

He looked up at Sarah. She was scrolling through an iPod with an amused look on her face.

"Okay," he announced, as he stood up from his chair with the folder in his hand. "Ready!"

She placed the iPod on the table. "Finally!" she cried.

"Hey, it didn't take that long," said Chuck. "And aren't you going to take your iPod?" He pointed to the coffee table.

"That's not mine, it's yours."

"Huh…so that's where I left it," he murmured to himself. He walked along side Sarah out of his office. Carina was sitting at her desk, looking slightly depressed, but mostly bored. "Carina? Do you want to do me a favor?"

"What do you need?" she asked.

"Can you fax these documents over to Bruce in accounting for me?" He handed her the folder. "I'd really appreciate it."

"Will do, _sir_," Carina hissed, yanking the folder out of his hand.

"Thanks, uh…do you want me to get you anything?"

"You can get me a gin and tonic."

"Jamba Juice it is, then!" he cried, chuckling dramatically while the CFO's assistant, Brenda was awkwardly gaping over at them. "What do you like?"

Carina rolled her eyes. "Razzmatazz."

"Okey Dokey!" Chuck clapped his hands together. When he brought his arms back down to his side, Sarah wrapped one of her arms around his. For a moment, he was confused, but he quickly realized that it was to sell their cover. Why Sarah would want to sell their cover at his workplace, he didn't know. It would probably make her extremely unpopular to their coworkers. But then again, he was the one that brought her flowers earlier that morning.

* * *

**October 2, 2007  
Outside Club Aries  
9:15 PM PST**

Thanks to Casey, and his strong desire to perfect Ellie's quiche recipe, they were an hour behind schedule. According to Sarah, it was extremely out of character for Casey to be that distracted before a mission. But Chuck knew better. His older sister had a way of cementing a person's feet to the floor when she was trying to teach them something. Ellie would have made an excellent teacher.

Chuck, Sarah, and Carina were stretched out in the back of the Hummer limo, while Casey sat in the driver's seat. Chuck wasn't a big fan of Hummers, but he had to admit, it was extremely comfortable riding in the back of the gas-guzzling limousine.

Chuck sat across from Sarah and Carina. He was wearing a dark grey button shirt, tucked into his black slacks. Over the shirt, he had on a black vest, which he thought was overkill, but he didn't say anything when Sarah had told him that he looked very dapper. Sarah was breathtaking, dressed in a black, one-shouldered, form-fitting mini dress. Carina was dressed in a maroon, low-cut, halter dress. Chuck guessed that Carina had found a way to entertain herself by making him feel uncomfortable. During the limo ride, she would bend down, showing an insane amount of cleavage, and a little more, in front of him. Since he was a gentleman, he would quickly avert his eyes away.

The limo came to a halt.

"What did we discuss earlier, Bartowski?" Casey's voice sounded from the front seat.

"Quiche recipes," said Chuck, jokingly.

Casey responded with a noise that sounded like a sleeping bear getting poked by a stick.

"I'm to let Sarah and Carina do all of the talking," said Chuck. Casey really needed to learn how to take a joke.

"That's right," said Casey. "Walker, give him the watch."

Sarah rolled her eyes, and dug through her handbag. She pulled out a long, narrow box and handed it to Chuck. "This is a GPS tracking device and communicator. If, for any reason, you get separated from Carina and me, we'll be able to pinpoint your location."

"Unless there's a _Galaga _machine in there, I really doubt I'd get lost."

"We have to take all precautions," she said, smiling. "It's just standard protocol, Chuck. Don't worry too much about it."

"Hmm." Chuck looked down at the watch. It was a chrome TAG Heuer. The face was black with chrome hands, and was slightly bigger than the watch he was wearing before. In his opinion, this watch was too extravagant for him. He preferred something simpler. "So after tonight, I can just give this back to you guys, right?"

Sarah and Carina exchanged looks. Sarah looked guilty, but Carina merely had an exasperated look on her face.

"You're going to have to wear it all the time," said Carina.

Chuck groaned inwardly. "So you're pretty much going to know my bathroom schedule then."

"Damn right," Casey grunted. "There's a panic button on that watch. It's not a toy. You are only to push that button when you're in danger."

Chuck had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling. He wanted to tell them that if they didn't interfere in his life, then he would still be safe from "the other agencies," as Sarah called them, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Understood," he grumbled, turning to Sarah. "So we ready to go?"

Sarah nodded and looked over her shoulder at Casey. "You're going to have to open the door, big guy."

He could hear Casey grunting and mumbling something as the big man got out of the driver's seat. Sarah winked over at him while the door opened.

"Thank you, good sir," said Chuck, handing Casey his old Rolex as he stepped out of the car. "For your trouble."

Casey opened his mouth to most likely make a retort, but stopped when he noticed the watch. "Not bad, Bartowski. You're serious?"

Chuck shrugged. "It was in my gift basket when I went to some technology convention in Tokyo. I have more watches at home. Keep it."

"Gonna have to get the bracelet resized," Casey mumbled to himself, looking pleased.

Sarah wrapped her arms around Chuck's. "Let's go."

Nodding, he let Sarah lead the way toward the club entrance. For a Tuesday night, the lines were long. People with cameras crowded around the entrance. Chuck guessed that there were probably some drunk socialites inside the club. He never understood why people took so much interest in them.

Carina took his other arm. When he tried to pull his arm back, she resisted.

"Is this necessary?" Chuck asked, nodding pointedly to his left arm.

"Yep," Carina replied. "It'll help us get in faster."

"How so?"

"Just watch and learn, Chucky," she replied as they approached the entrance. Immediately, Carina grinned seductively up at the bouncer, who swallowed. "You think you can let us in, big boy?"

The bouncer gaped dumbly at Carina, and his mouth dropped even wider when he saw Sarah. When he turned to Chuck, his eyebrows scrunched together. "You look familiar."

"Do I?" Chuck asked warily. "I guess I have one of those faces."

"I've seen you while I was in line at the grocery store!" the bouncer cried, letting out a triumphant laugh. "You were on that rich person's magazine!"

Chuck chuckled awkwardly. "Oh, yeah," he said. "I'm Charles Bartowski."

"You own some company, don't ya?"

"Sure."

Sarah stepped forward. "So can we get in?"

The bouncer seemed taken aback for a moment, and then he nodded. "Yeah, come on in."

"Thanks," said Chuck, clapping the bouncer on his shoulder.

Carina winked. "You're so sweet."

The three of them walked inside. The chorus of groans from the people waiting in line was quickly drowned out by the deep, booming bass from the music. They walked down a long and wide, brightly lit hallway.

"So do we just ask someone to see Stavros?" Chuck asked loudly over the music.

"No," Sarah replied, leaning up on her toes so that she can get closer to Chuck's ear. "Since you're probably the freshest celebrity face here, Stavros is going to notice you first."

Chuck never saw himself as a celebrity, so he tried not to roll his eyes at Sarah. When they were about to approach the blonde hostess's podium, a large man bumped into Chuck.

"Oh, sorry, bro," said the man who had bumped Chuck. "I didn't see you—" he stopped when he saw Sarah, his mouth dropping into an O shape. "Sarah Walker?"

Chuck turned to Sarah to see that she suddenly had a surprised look on her face. "Wally Johnson?"

Carina guffawed. Although Chuck wanted to imitate her, he had another thing on his mind. Wally Johnson? Was this the Wally that Sarah had told him about? The guy that she said she dated back when she went to Harvard?

He looked up at Wally. The guy was, simply put, an Aryan _beast_! He was taller than Chuck, and had dark blonde hair, blue eyes, his neck was the size of an oak tree trunk, and his biceps were probably bigger than a soccer ball, and he was at least three inches taller than Chuck.

Suddenly, Chuck's head felt heavy.

**A silhouette of a woman running on a beach  
Walter Franklin Johnson  
DOB: 03/18/1979  
OMEGA: Field Agent  
A silhouette of a woman running on a beach**

As the flash washed away, he realized that he was lucky that no one had seen his eyelids flutter. Sarah was too busy giving Wally a look of disgust (Chuck didn't blame her—the guy was more ripped than a body builder), and Carina's eyes were flicking between Sarah and Wally.

"It's good to know you still remember me," Wally said in a voice that sounded very much like Mike Tyson's. Chuck would have found it funny if this guy didn't look so damn intimidating. "I must have left an impression."

Sarah sneered. "Hmm…no, I don't think so," she said coolly. "It's just hard to forget a guy who got expelled for roid possession."

"They were all-natural herbal supplements!"

Sarah said something, but Chuck wasn't listening. Instead, he was formulating a plan. He needed to call Bryce or his father to let them know that he flashed on an Omega agent, but he didn't have the untapped phone that Bryce had left in his car with him. Chuck knew that he could slip past Sarah and Carina by excusing himself to use the restroom, but he still needed a damn phone. In this day and age, and especially at this over-priced nightclub, he really doubted that there would be any payphones.

But as he looked around for ideas, he saw the blonde hostess chatting with someone on her cell phone. If he was lucky, then _maybe_ she'd leave her phone on her podium, and he could swipe it is he walked passed her.

He turned to Sarah, and she was glaring disgustedly at Wally grinning over-confidently down at her.

"Damn, Sarah," Wally exclaimed. "You are one hot looking piece of ass."

Chuck couldn't fight the flash as it began to overwhelm him. When the flash went away, his right leg wanted to deliver a jumping snap kick to Wally's face. His arms wanted to put Wally in a sleeper hold. He struggled to fight the flash away.

One part of his mind told him that no one should _ever_ talk to Sarah that way. The other part of his mind, reasoned that it knew that, and he would get the chance to kick Wally's ass later. For now, they had to keep their composure.

Carina nudged Chuck in the ribs with her elbow. Snapping back to the moment, he saw Wally's outstretched hand that resembled one of those Incredible Hulk gloves. Reluctantly, Chuck took it.

"Nice to meet you, man," said Chuck, forcing what he hoped to be a friendly grin.

"Word." Wally released Chuck's hand, and turned back to Sarah. He flashed her another overly confident grin. Although the flash had faded away, Chuck still wanted to punch the stupid grin off his face. "I'll see you around, Sarah."

"Yeah…don't count on that," she said, watching as Wally strutted out the door. She turned back to Chuck, and gave him a look that told him that she wasn't going to talk about what just happened.

Wordlessly, Chuck, Sarah, and Carina walked toward the hostess's podium. The young, blonde woman placed her phone on top of the podium, and Chuck saw his opening.

"Good evening, Mr. Bartowski," said the hostess cheerily. "I just heard that you were here!" She gestured to her phone.

Chuck smiled kindly, and waited for her to continue.

"We have one private room left," she continued, grinning so widely that Chuck was certain that she was in pain. "Would you like it?"

He turned to Sarah, who nodded, and back to the hostess. "Yes, please."

"Okay, right this way."

Chuck watched the hostess intently as she turned around, waiting to see if…bingo! She forgot her phone. He let Sarah and Carina walk ahead of him, and as he passed the podium, he quickly swiped the phone into his pocket.

"Actually," Chuck called to the hostess. "Can you tell me where the little boys' room is?"

"Oh, of course," she said, still smiling widely. "It's in that hallway to your right, across the dance floor."

"Thanks," he said, turning to Sarah. "I need to…you know."

"Okay…uh…do you want me to go with you?"

"What?" Chuck snickered. "I'm pretty sure I can handle it."

"I bet you could," said Carina in a sing-song tone.

Chuck ignored her, and turned back to the hostess. He asked her where their private room was going to be, and after she told him, he quickly made his way to the men's room. But as he walked across the dance floor, he could see a long line of men waiting.

Well, calling his father from the bathroom was a bad idea. He glanced around the club, and he saw an empty booth to his right, about twenty yards away. Once again, he walked across the dance floor, ignoring the intoxicated women dancing up on him, over to the booth. He settled in, and gave a quick once over to make sure that Sarah and Carina didn't follow him. When he was sure that they didn't, he dialed Bryce's number.

The dial tone rang three times, when Bryce picked up his phone. "Bruce Leonard."

"Bryce, it's Chuck," he said into the receiver.

"Chuck? Whose phone are you calling me from? Aren't you supposed to be on a mission right now?"

Chuck had to press the phone tightly to his ear to hear Bryce over the music. "Yeah! I stole this phone from the hostess. But Bryce, I just flashed on an Omega agent!"

"What?"

"I just flashed on an Omega agent!" he repeated. "Run a check on Walter Franklin Johnson for me! See if you can find out where he's either living or staying!"

"Okay. Are you going to go after him?"

"Well, I can't right now! I'm going to think of a way to ditch the handlers, and I'll take care of him later!"

"Right, well…good luck with that!"

"Thanks, I gotta go though! They're going to think I'm pooping!" Chuck slammed the phone shut, and swiftly stepped out of the booth. As he made his way to the bar to drop the phone off, he realized how odd he must have just sounded to Bryce. But Bryce was a smart guy. He'd figure it out.

He dropped the phone off at the bar, telling the bartender that he found it on the ground, and he made his way up the stairs to the private room where Sarah and Carina were waiting for him.

Carina held up a martini glass, and handed it to Chuck. He wasn't a big fan of vodka martinis, but just to have something to do, he took a long sip of the bitter drink.

"Thanks," he said to Carina. "So when's Stavros getting here?"

"Hopefully, he'll hear that you're in this room, and he'll come in to say hello," Sarah replied, squeezing the wedge of lime into her glass of gin and tonic.

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then you're going to have to ask a waitress if you can see him."

Chuck nodded.

"Tell her that you have a business prop—" Sarah was cut short when the door burst open. A man only an inch or two shorter than Chuck, with his brown hair tied back in a pony tail walked into the room. An attractive, but flustered looking, short woman with thick brown hair followed the man inside. The woman was mashing the buttons on her phone in frustration.

"So sorry to intrude, but when I heard Charles Bartowski entered my club, I just had to come and say hello!" The man spoke with a light Russian accent. He reached his hand out in front of Chuck. "My name is Stavros Demetrios, and like I say, this is my club!"

"Not too shabby," said Chuck, shaking Stavros's hand. "Chuck Bartowski."

"Yes, yes, I know!" Stavros chuckled heartily, and released Chuck's hand. He looked behind Chuck at Sarah and Carina. "I'll let you get back to entertaining your lovely girlfriends."

"Actually," Carina interceded, standing up. "Mr. Bartowski wanted to talk business with you."

Stavros eyed her up and down. Apparently, he liked what he saw. "Is that so?"

"Yes it is," she said, gesturing to the booth across from Chuck. "Why don't you have a seat?"

"Don't mind if I do," said Stavros, winking, not at Carina, but at Sarah. Something began to churn in Chuck's stomach. Stavros sat down in the booth, and scooted over so that his girlfriend could join them. "First things, first, drinks are on the house tonight."

To Chuck's surprise, Sarah giggled giddily. He remembered that she was only there as his ditzy girlfriend, but still...hearing Sarah giggle like that was extremely odd. "Oh my god! Thanks!" she cried in an airy tone.

"It's not a problem, sweetheart," said Stavros, kissing Sarah's hand.

"Oh, gosh, Chuck! Isn't he sweet?" asked Sarah, bumping her shoulder into him, and _giggling_. Yes, he had heard Sarah giggling before, and he knew it was her cover, but this ditzy, airy giggle really unsettled him. The same went for this Stavros fella. Chuck wasn't the type to immediately judge anyone without getting to know them, but this guy had a pony tail, and he reeked of douches.

Sarah gave Chuck an urging look with her eyes to let him know to play along. Chuck scowled his best Captain Kirk scowl, and turned to Stavros. He made sure to eye Stavros so that it was obvious that he was scoping the Russian playboy wannabe out. Chuck was going to show this turd who had the bigger stick.

"Meh," Chuck grunted, giving a halfhearted shrug. "Alright, Stavy, let's talk business."

"Certainly."

"I'm thinking of starting a chain of nightclubs around the country," said Chuck, ignoring the sharp kicks that Carina, who was supposed to be the mediator of the meeting, was sending him. He knew that he was supposed to remain quiet through this mission, but he needed to show this douche who's boss.

"Is that so?" asked Stavros, looking slightly confused. "That's nice for you."

"It could be, yeah," said Chuck. He picked up his martini. It took him a second to remember how Connery drank his martinis in the old Bond movies. Once Chuck remembered, he did his best Connery impression in taking a sip.

"And why would you need to talk to me about that?"

Carina opened her mouth to reply, but Chuck spoke first. "While I may be one of the youngest billionaires in the world," he started, adding cockily, "I'm sure you knew that. I'm sure you also know that I run the one of the most profitable companies in the world."

Chuck winked to Sarah to let her know that he knew what he was doing. While she tried to maintain her airy grin, he realized that he didn't know what he was doing. He should probably let off the cockiness a bit.

"Anyway," he continued. "I don't know the first thing about running a club, let alone, a chain of clubs. That's where you come in, my friend."

He nudged Carina so that she could jump in. "Mr. Bartowski knows that your clubs are among the best in LA. He would like you to be the head manager of his new chain of clubs."

"That's right," said Chuck. "I want you to be my number two."

He had to stifle a chuckle after he realized what he had said.

Stavros ran his hand along his chin, looking lost in thought. "I'm very busy at the moment. I'm starting up another club."

"Really?" Chuck already knew that, but he played along anyway. "What are you going to call it?"

"The Windfarm."

"Eek…don't call it Windfarm," said Chuck, scrunching his face in disgust. "It makes me feel gassy for some reason."

Carina kicked Chuck harder than before. Okay, maybe insulting the guy's stupid club name was a bad idea.

"I've already started some planning for my chain," said Chuck, quickly bringing the meeting back to order.

"Is that so?" asked Stavros, looking intrigued. "What do you have planned so far?"

"Well, let me call up a buddy of mine, and I'll show you." Chuck took his phone out of his pocket and held it up in front of Stavros. The phone was the latest Legends Phone model, and it was the first touch screen phone in the world. "Pretty sweet phone, eh? I designed it. It's not out yet though."

He made a show, in front of Stavros, as he flicked his thumb across the touch screen through his address book. When he got to Bryce's number, he pushed the send button.

"Yeah?" Bryce answered.

"Bruce, my man," said Chuck, "you got that rundown for the clubs ready for me?"

"Yep."

"Send it on over, ASAP," said Chuck.

"On it," said Bryce. "How's the mission going along?"

"Okay, Bruce," Chuck said, rolling his eyes, and pretending that he was exasperated. "Michael Jackson didn't come over to my house to use the bathroom. He was about to. But his sister did!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Janet, duh!" Chuck exclaimed, laughing.

"Wow…" Bryce murmured. "Okay, I sent them. Good luck, man."

"Thank you." Chuck pressed the end button, and waited a moment. A few seconds later, he got Bryce's email. "Okay," he said, handing the phone to Stavros. "That's the general rundown. We're covering all of the major cities, and yeah. Just read it over."

Stavros read through the rundown, looking genuinely impressed. While he was busy reading, Chuck felt Sarah's hand on his shoulder, pulling him down.

"What are you doing?" she whispered. "You're not supposed to say anything."

"Don't worry about it," he reassured, softly, barely moving his lips. "I know what I'm doing. It's going to work. Trust me." He winked at her, and after a moment, she winked back.

"Damn it!" cried the woman sitting next to Stavros, clutching menacingly at her phone. "Piece of shit!"

Stavros looked up from Chuck's phone. "What's wrong?"

"My phone isn't working!"

"I'll get you a new one." Stavros shrugged, and turned back to read through Chuck's phone again.

"No, Stavros! This phone is my _life_!" she cried, shaking her phone for emphasis. "It has everything from dates, names, music, recipes—"

"Whoa," Chuck interceded, "you're a cook?"

She ignored him. "I can't go back to my life before this phone! I am _freaking_ out!"

"Okay, okay," said Chuck. Finally, the woman turned to face him. "Just go to your happy place. Think of something that makes you happy. Take deep breaths now."

She closed her eyes, and inhaled a deep breath and exhaled. "Turkey…muenster cheese…egg bread. Grilled."

"Was that…was that a sandwich?" Chuck asked, impressed.

"They're sort of my passion. I own a deli at the BuyMore plaza."

"You're Lou?" he cried in disbelief. Lou's Deli made _the_ most amazing sandwiches. Sure, they were pricey, but totally worth it. Sometimes, Chuck used visiting Morgan as an excuse to go over to the deli. "Wow! I love your sandwiches!"

"Oh," said Lou, blushing slightly. "I didn't realize…I mean, I'm there every day, and I don't think I've ever seen you before."

"Hm…well, it's always packed!" Chuck laughed, but stopped when he felt Sarah elbowing his hip. He turned to her, giving her a confused expression, but she had her poker face on. It was unreadable. Deciding that Sarah just had a strange muscle spasm, Chuck turned back to Lou, his hand outstretched. "May I see your phone?"

"Why?" asked Stavros suddenly looking up from Chuck's phone. He grabbed onto Lou's wrist to stop her from handing Chuck her phone.

"I think I can fix it," Chuck replied. "Actually, I know I can."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm a genius."

Stavros was glaring at Chuck.

"I'll just take my phone to the Nerd Herd tomorrow," said Lou, looking at Chuck. "Thanks for the offer though."

"No problem," he said, winking.

Stavros tossed Chuck's phone back to him. "Well, Jack, I mean, Chuck," he began. "I'm very intrigued by your business plan, but there's not enough information."

"That was merely a short rundown, Mr. Demetrios," Carina spoke up. "We can have a full presentation ready for you tomorrow afternoon."

"And how much money will I be making?"

"You and Mr. Bartowski will split the profits 70/30," Carina replied.

Stavros looked down at his hands. Chuck could tell that he didn't like him, but he could also tell that there was nothing more important to Stavros than money. "If you decide to sign the contract tomorrow, you'll get five-hundred grand upfront," said Chuck, ignoring Sarah's tight grip on his knee. He held up his phone. "And I'll throw in one of these bad boys to boot. How about we meet up at one o'clock tomorrow?"

Stavros smiled greedily, and clapped his hands together. "Well, I'll see you all tomorrow at one then!"

"Will do," said Chuck, standing up. "We're going to get going now. It's been an absolute _pleasure_ meeting with you, Stavros."

"Likewise, Chuck." Stavros shook Chuck's hand, gripping it tightly.

Chuck pulled his hand back, and held both of his arms out. "Ladies."

Sarah and Carina took one of his arms each, and without another word, Chuck led them both out of the room.

"What the hell, Chuck?" Carina demanded, once the door had shut. "You almost blew the mission!"

"I just had a sudden urge to out-douche him," Chuck replied. "And I didn't blow the mission, so…you're welcome."

"What was up with you flirting with that Lou girl?" asked Sarah, looking angrily up at Chuck.

"What?" Chuck asked, abashed. "I wasn't flirting with her!"

"Hmm…'Oh, Lou!'" she mocked. "'I _love_ your sandwiches!'"

"Wow!" he cried, exasperated. "You were the one that was flirting with Stavros first!"

Sarah scoffed. "I only did that for my _cover_! He took notice of me, so I went with it!"

"Either way, you were blatantly flirting with him."

"You were blatantly flirting with his girlfriend," she retorted.

"It wasn't flirting!" he insisted.

Chuck and Carina exchanged bemused looks. He didn't know why Sarah would be mad about him complimenting a woman's sandwich making ability. Sure, Lou was pretty, but she didn't hold a candle up to Sarah. Maybe he should say that to Sarah. No, he decided. That might make her uncomfortable. "Seriously, Sarah, I'll take you over to her deli sometime. She really does make good sandwiches."

"I don't want to—" Sarah stopped herself from saying more. "Listen, Chuck, like I said yesterday, we're cover dating. We're supposed to be happy together, and if you're going to be ogling other women, that would be really bad for our cover."

Chuck rolled his eyes in frustration as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Oh, wow! Says the woman who went on gushing about how sweet some douche bag with a pony tail was!" he laughed humorlessly. "I tell someone that I love their sandwiches, and all of a sudden, I'm _ogling_ her?"

"Offering to fix her cell?"

"I was being a good Samaritan," he argued. "It's like you see someone stranded on the freeway, and their car needs a jump, so you offer them one. Except, in this case, instead of a broken car, it was a broken phone. And you heard her, that phone was her life! She was freaking out, Sarah!"

Before they stepped out of the club, Sarah stopped. She looked past Chuck to Carina. "Hey, Carina. You step out first, and Chuck and I will meet up with you in a bit."

Carina released Chuck's arm, and sniggering, she left through the door in front of them. He turned to Sarah, who was looking around the club. "Why can't we all leave together?" he asked warily as she looked back at him. "Is there something wrong?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

What did she just say? Maybe he heard her wrong, and she actually said, "I'm going to kill you," or "I'm going to kick you?"

"Ex—excuse me?" he choked out.

* * *

**A/N:** _Dun, dun, dun!_

You guys want to know what happens next? A lot. Thanks again for reading, and as always, reviews are appreciated! I will try like hell to get the next chapter up by Sunday at the very latest! A lot of stuff is going to go down! :)


	6. Truffle Shuffle

**A/N**: First of all, sorry that it took so long to get this chapter posted. I really envisioned this chapter to only be about 8000 words, but it turned into over 13,000, making it the longest chapter so far.

Of course, I have to thank **mxpw** for taking the time to beta this. This chapter is a beast, you guys, and **mxpw** truly is an awesome guy! He's been my sounding board these last couple of days.

I hope you guys like this chapter, because it's my personal favorite so far. And as always, I thank you for the feedback! Reviews do help give writers a push, so thanks so much, you guys!

* * *

**October 2, 2007  
Orion's Den  
11:20 PM PST**

Chuck walked down into the basement, and pulled off his jacket. He saw Bryce and Stephen, both looking up at their computer monitors, and typing furiously.

"Where's Jill?"

"She's in the other room, working on your new suit," Bryce replied. "She says she'll have it ready before you go to Virginia."

Chuck nodded. "Tell me what I need to know," he said, while walking into his office so that he could put on his suit. He began to strip away his clothes.

"We could only guess as to why Walter's here," said Stephen. "I couldn't get a hold of your mother to see whether she could confirm or deny our theories though."

Chuck rolled his eyes. Of course they couldn't get a hold of his mother. They only spoke to her once every couple of months. He squeezed into his armor.

"Anyway, it turns out that he's Ted Roark's bastard son," said Bryce. "And he just got a job at Roark Industries, so we're assuming that he's going to make nice with his long lost father, and sabotage the company from the inside."

Omega's main goal was to start an economic crisis, so it made sense that they'd start putting their agents in successful companies. He made a mental note to check over every new hire for the corporate branch of Legends as he strapped on his wrist computer. "Where's he staying?"

"The Marriot on South Figueroa, room 732," Stephen replied.

As Chuck began to button up his shirt, something occurred to him. This was the first time that he was going to confront an Omega operative. He remembered Daniel Shaw, and how Bryce was going to shoot him when he wouldn't give up any relevant information. Oh, God! Was _he_ going to have to kill Wally?

"Wait," he said, forgetting about the buttons, and walking back out to Bryce and his father. "I'm not going to have to kill him, am I?"

Bryce and Stephen exchanged cautious looks, causing Chuck to gulp. Yes, Wally was an ass, a gigantic one at that, but still. He knew what he had gotten himself into when he had downloaded the Intersect. But was he ready to actually take a life? No, he didn't think it was.

Stephen turned to Chuck, and shook his head. "Just tranq him, and bring him here for questioning. We'll have the holding cell ready."

He wanted to ask whether they were just going to keep Wally in the cell until the war with Omega was over, or if they were going to execute him once they got all the intel that they needed, but he held his tongue. He needed a clear head if he was going to flash later.

"Charles," said Stephen, walking over to Chuck. He put a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Don't worry too much about it. If he has nothing to offer us, we'll keep him in the cell."

He responded with a confused look. Were his facial expressions so easy to read that they broadcast his thoughts to other people?

"Maybe we can turn him so that he works for us," said Stephen. "If we can't, we'll just keep him in the cell."

"But why?"

Stephen looked up at Chuck. "Killing Omega agents isn't going to accomplish much. But capturing them and holding them in captivity? That'll accomplish so much more. It'll show Omega that we're learning more about them from their agents instead of your mother. It'll keep her safe."

Chuck nodded in agreement. His mother was risking a lot by being a double agent, and by capturing and holding Omega agents, he knew that would help ensure her safety. "Yeah, I see what you mean."

"So just tranq him, and bring him here," said Bryce. "We'll have the cell ready for him."

"Okay," he said, letting out a sigh of relief. "One less thing to worry about."

Chuck began to button up his shirt again, and he noticed the watch that Sarah had given him. He was about to unclasp the watch, but his father grabbed his wrist.

"Did your handlers give you that watch?"

Chuck nodded. "Yeah. I need to take it off so they don't track me to Wally's hotel."

"Wait!" Stephen exclaimed. "There might be a heart rate monitor on it. If you take it off, it'll send an alert to your handlers. Sit down." Stephen led Chuck to the closest chair, and sat him down. He turned to Bryce. "Can you bring over the toolbox?"

But Bryce was already holding the toolbox up, and he handed it to Stephen. A moment later, Stephen pulled the face off.

"What happened tonight?" asked Bryce. "How did you ditch your handlers?"

Chuck sighed, and shook his head. "It's a long story, man."

* * *

**October 2, 2007  
Club Aries  
9:55 PM PST**

Sarah knew that she was overreacting, but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel a little hurt by Chuck's actions. Sure, he was being his normal, sweet self, but the way he smiled at that Lou girl just rubbed her the wrong way. Chuck could do so much better than some girl who owned a deli and nearly had a seizure because her phone had frozen. She wasn't even that pretty either, Sarah noted to herself.

Sarah saw Chuck and Carina exchanging looks with each other. She knew she was being unprofessional. Maybe it was a mistake to flirt with Stavros, but she had only done it because it was _he_ who took notice of her. Sarah sighed. It would have been better for her and her cover to just cozy up to Chuck to show Stavros that she wasn't interested in him. There was also a part of her that knew that she had only flirted with Stavros to see how Chuck would react. The end result was that he naively flirted with that tiny sandwich girl.

Sarah was about to apologize to Chuck for her unprofessional behavior, but she stopped when she noticed a tall, thin, blonde woman walking into the club with a large group of people. Outside the door, there were a countless number of paparazzi. She suddenly came up with a plan.

It was a silly plan, maybe a plan hatched-out of selfishness, but, with the amount of paparazzi outside, this was an excellent opportunity for her and Chuck to sell their cover. And she'd wanted to do this again ever since their fateful meeting at the hotel in San Francisco ten years ago.

"Hey, Carina, you step out first," she said, looking around Chuck at Carina. "Chuck and I will meet up with you in a bit."

Carina sniggered as she left the club. Sarah turned to look up at Chuck, and she felt hurt when she saw that he was looking fearfully down at her. "Why can't we all leave together?" he asked. "Is there something wrong?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

Chuck's mouth dropped down in shock. She didn't expect any other expression from him. After all, her statement came way out of left field. But it didn't change the fact that it stung her a bit.

"Ex—excuse me?"

Sarah nodded to the door. "There are more than two dozen paparazzi outside. I want to—" she stopped herself, mainly because if she finished that statement, it would have sounded insanely desperate. "We need to sell our cover."

Chuck scowled. "Listen, Sarah, while it would be _really_ awesome to kiss you, I…can't." He offered an apologetic shrug. Sarah couldn't help her face falling in disappointment. "I have to think about my public image, you know? It's bad enough that they're going to get shots of me leaving a nightclub that's famous for attracting partying socialites, but to actually kiss you in front of everyone, and for them to take pictures that everyone I know will see? That's just…I can't. It's not only bad for me, but it's bad for you too."

Chuck had a point, Sarah realized. Sometimes it was easy for her to forget that Chuck was in charge of a successful company, and that he maintained a wholesome public image, because he was the same Chuck from back when they were kids. Sure, there were some subtle changes about him. She never would have thought that he would ever be into fast cars, let alone handle one so well. But the fact of the matter was that he was probably the youngest CEO running a Fortune 500 company. If the shareholders of his company saw him popping up on gossip magazines and websites, outside of a nightclub, then it could ruin his image.

What a stupid idea it was to kiss him, she thought.

"Chuck, I'm sorry." She looked down at her feet, feeling ashamed, but mostly stupid. "It was a stupid thing to suggest."

"It wasn't stupid," he said, gently lifting her chin up so that he could look into her eyes. "I have a better idea on how we can sell our cover for the public though."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep." He grinned and pulled her toward the door. "I'm going to give them a short interview about us."

"Chuck, wait—"

"I won't compromise you," he promised. "Trust me."

Sarah looked up at Chuck smiling warmly at her in a way that reassured her. "Okay."

"Yeah?" he asked, still smiling.

She nodded.

"Okay, then. Just let me do all of the talking." He pushed open the door, and they walked out, holding hands.

It took a few seconds for Chuck to be recognized, but as soon as someone shouted, "Charles Bartowski!" a storm of flashing bulbs began to blind her. It didn't surprise Sarah that Chuck was so recognizable.

Chuck gave Sarah's hand a squeeze, as a bold, balding man, holding a handheld video camera, approached them. Chuck continued walking. The man was following him, holding up his camera.

"Mr. Bartowski, how are you tonight?" he asked.

"Good, good," Chuck replied, but not making eye contact with the paparazzi. "Just out on a date with my girlfriend."

Sarah began to tense up as more photographers crowded around them. She wasn't used to being so out in the open. Her eyes began to hurt from all of the bright, flashing bulbs. It made her feel vulnerable. But Chuck ran his thumb along hers, and gave her a reassuring look. Oddly enough, it comforted her. Wasn't it her job to protect Chuck?

A series of questions rained down upon both her and Chuck:

"How long have you two been dating?"

"What's your name?"

"Are you happy?"

"How did you meet?"

Chuck spoke to the balding camera man. "All right, I'll answer a few of your questions."

The camera man smiled widely. "Thank you! I know you're a busy man, so I'll make this fast."

"Thanks," said Chuck.

"So who is she?" The man pointed his camera at Sarah. She fought the urge to yank the camera out of his hand and smashing it to the ground. It was part of her training. She was not to be noticed, but not memorable, while out on missions. But never in her career was she ever in a cover relationship with a famous CEO.

"This," he said, wrapping his arm around Sarah's shoulder and pulling her close to him, "is my best friend from my childhood." He smiled sweetly at her. Sarah couldn't help but smile back. "She was my first crush."

A wave of warmth rushed over her upon hearing what he had said. She felt giddy, all of a sudden, and she secretly hoped that Chuck would take more questions just so she could hear what Chuck had to say.

"Why didn't you guys date any sooner?"

"Life happened," Chuck replied. "You know, she had to move away. But luckily, we just happened to run into each other at a Buy More while I was buying some videogames."

"What game did you get?"

What the hell kind of question was that? Did people really care about what kind of videogames Chuck played?

"_Halo 3_," Chuck replied. He nodded to their limo. "Listen, man, I really need to get going. My ride's here."

"One more question," the man went on. "Are you happy that you found her?"

Chuck looked at Sarah, and then back at the reporter. "Of course, I am. Like I said, she was my best friend from childhood, and my first crush. She's the funniest, smartest, and the most beautiful person I know. I know this sounds cheesy, but…" his voice trailed off as he turned back to Sarah. "I really do cherish every second that we spend together."

It took every ounce of willpower that she possessed to not kiss Chuck. Instead, she leaned in closer to him. She knew that she must have been grinning like the Cheshire Cat. But even with all of her years of training, whenever she spent time with Chuck, she would sometimes forget that she was even a spy. There was a nagging voice that told her that he was just saying that for their cover, but she reasoned that Chuck was never a good liar.

"All right, people!" Casey's voice boomed loudly, as he walked around the limo. "Back up, let the man get into his car!" Casey shoved her and Chuck into the limo. The paparazzi were still taking pictures of them as the door slammed. "Get a real job!" she heard Casey yell to the paparazzi.

Once they settled into the back seat, facing the front, Chuck took Sarah's hand. Whether it was intentional or by accident, she didn't know. "So what'd you think?" he asked, grinning as he looked out the tinted window. "Not bad, right?"

"What?" she asked, distracted by the way Chuck was running his thumb along hers. "Oh, yeah, it wasn't bad at all."

"You guys can drop the lovey dovey act now," said Carina, causing both Sarah and Chuck to jump back in surprise. She had forgotten about Carina. "No one can see you."

Sarah released Chuck's hand as Casey stepped into the driver's seat.

"Bartowski!" Casey yelled, as he drove the car forward. "What the hell was that about in there?"

"What do you mean?" asked Chuck.

"You almost blew it with Stavros," Casey replied. "You weren't supposed to talk during the mission."

"How did you know what happened in there?" asked Chuck.

"Sarah and I were wired," said Carina, pulling a wire from her purse.

"Oh, right," Chuck said, looking cautiously at the wire. "I'm sorry about that, but at least we set up the meeting for tomorrow! You guys will be able to get what you need!"

"The point is, you broke orders—" Casey began.

Chuck scoffed loudly. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't know I was an official employee of the government. I must have missed the memo."

Casey growled, but Sarah spoke up before him. "Cool it, guys! All that matters is that the meeting is set up. Sure, Chuck went off mission a bit, but that isn't any different from Carina improvising while we're out in the field."

Carina gave a slight nod in agreement.

"Well, Bartowski," Casey grunted. "Because of your moronic efforts, you're going to have to pay up half a million dollars to Stavros tomorrow. Don't think the government's going to compensate you for that."

"Enough with the name calling!" Chuck yelled, startling even Sarah. She had never heard him yell in anger before. Hell, she had never even seen him _angry_ before. "Jesus Christ! I've been doing everything you guys have asked of me, and yet you still treat me like shit! I know you didn't ask for this assignment, and it must suck for you guys, but it's not my fault that you guys are stuck with me! I just tried to do what I thought was right, and I dealt with everything you've thrown at me. I didn't do anything wrong." He shook his head, and looked out the window. "I found the bug in my office, by the way. Thanks for letting me know about that."

"You found out about the bug?" Carina asked.

"You weren't very subtle about planting it," said Chuck. "But why the hell am I being bugged?" He held up his wrist and pointed at the watch. "Why are you guys tracking my every move? I'm not a criminal."

Sarah had assets before in the past, and yes, she knew she was guilty of treating them harshly at times. To an agent, having an asset was like being forced to babysit someone when you've already made plans for the night. It was just a hassle. But Chuck was right. He was being treated poorly by everyone.

Hell, even _she_ was guilty of treating him badly. She thought back to the day before. At one moment, she'd be cold and distant to Chuck, but the next, he would catch her off-guard somehow, and she'd be warmer to him. She felt terrible about it, and that was why she was more like herself today. The last thing she needed was to push Chuck away. Not when he was the only real person left in her life.

"Chuck, we should have told you about the bugs," said Sarah. "And I'm sorry that we didn't. But those bugs aren't there because we think you're a bad person. They're there so we could keep tabs on who's contacting you. And that wristwatch? Well, that's to make sure none of the bad guys get you. I know it sucks, Chuck, but I need—we need to know that you're safe."

Damn it, she slipped up again. In front of Carina and Casey no less.

Chuck face softened, and he nodded his appreciation. "I just don't like being treated like I'm an idiot."

"No one does," she said, smiling. "And we know you're not an idiot."

She saw Carina parting her lips to speak, most likely to say something along the lines of, "this is boring. You guys should make out or something," but Chuck's phone rang. He took his phone out of his pocket, and Sarah could see a picture of Bryce smiling up at her.

"Hey, man," Chuck answered. There was a pause. "Hmm…let me call you back." He hung up and looked at Sarah. "God, I feel like a little kid, but is it cool if I go over to Bryce's tonight?"

"At this hour?" asked Casey.

"Yes," said Chuck, rolling his eyes. "I'm still going to go to work at the usual time tomorrow, but I was a scholarship student at Stanford. I'm used to not getting much sleep."

"What are you guys going to do?"

"We'll probably play videogames," Chuck replied.

Casey groaned.

"Let him go, Casey," said Sarah. "He deserves a couple of hours of privacy. Like he said, he didn't do anything wrong."

Casey grunted in response. Sarah had known him long enough to decipher his grunts. His last grunt meant, "He almost blew the mission." Sarah wasn't sure if that was true. After all, Stavros would never have given up an opportunity like that.

"Okay," she said. "So maybe Chuck did disobey our orders. But, Casey, Chuck's a business man. He knew what he was doing, and the important thing is that he was able to set up the meeting for tomorrow." Chuck smiled gratefully at her, and she nodded. "And without Chuck, and his satellites, we would have never been able to find out who…" she trailed off. Chuck wasn't supposed to know about Fulcrum or the Ring. "The bad guys had in our agencies. He's a patriot."

There it was, Sarah thought, as Casey twitched his head in a small nod. Casey always showed respect to those he considered patriots.

"Fine, Bartowski can go," he said. "But if anything happens to him, Walker, it's your ass."

Sarah chuckled, and gave Chuck a wink. "What are the chances of anything happening to him?" she asked Casey. She turned back to Chuck. "All you're going to do is play videogames with Bryce, right?"

He nodded. "Probably. We might play a short _D&D_ campaign, but—you don't know what that is, do you?" he asked when Sarah raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, you insult me," she said, chuckling. She couldn't believe that Chuck still played that game. It was _so_ nerdy, yet at the same time, it was cute, and reassuring to know that Chuck was still a nerd. "You don't remember that time you tried to get me to play _Dungeons and Dragons_ with you and Morgan that one weekend?"

Chuck's eyes squinted in concentration, then they widened. "Oh _man_!" he exclaimed, laughing. "I can't believe I forgot about that!"

"That really hurts, Chuck," Sarah pouted playfully, putting her hands together in a heart shape, and pulling them apart. "How could you forget popping my _D&D_ cherry? I thought it was a proud moment for you, but I guess I was wrong."

"I'm sorry!" cried Chuck, still laughing. "Oh, jeez! I remember that you were a Half-Elf named Stoiries Urthadar, and you got mad and threw the dice across the room!"

"I got mad because you and Morgan were cheating!" she insisted.

"We were not!"

Casey cleared his throat loudly. Sarah had forgotten, once again, where she was and who she was with. Damn it, Chuck, she thought. He was constantly throwing her off her spy game.

"Hold on," Carina piped up, looking concerned. "Bryce plays that nerdy game?"

"Yeah," Chuck replied. "We used to play it back in our Stanford days."

Carina crossed her arms across her chest, and leaned back in her seat. She let out a huff of air. "That explains _so_ much."

"What do you mean?" asked Chuck.

Sarah already knew what Carina was going to say, but she couldn't help but laugh at Chuck's shocked expression as Carina responded.

"Well, the first time me and Bryce did the dirty, I had to fake it," said Carina, shrugging. "Had to give him a few pointers after that night."

* * *

**October 3, 2007  
Marriot Hotel  
12:32 AM PST**

Getting into the hotel was a huge hassle. It wasn't like Chuck could just walk in past the front desk without attracting attention. Even if he didn't have his mask on, he most likely would have attracted attention. Sometimes, being a billionaire sucked.

He snuck in through the kitchen door outside of the hotel. Thankfully, it was late, and no one noticed him. Unfortunately, the kitchen was located on the bottom floor. Wally was on the seventh. The blueprints that he downloaded into his wrist computer showed him that that there was a cargo elevator not too far from the kitchen, but it was under repair. It was just his luck.

He walked into the broken elevator, and climbed up to the top. As he looked up the elevator shaft, he really wished he had Batman's grappling gun. It would have made life so much easier for him.

"Bruce Wayne, you have no idea how lucky you are, you son of a bitch," Chuck said to himself.

Making a mental note to ask his father if he could build him a grappling gun, Chuck flexed his fingers. He exhaled a breath, grabbed onto the thick metal cable, and he began to climb up.

By the time he reached the seventh floor, he realized that he had come across another problem. Even with his long limbs, he couldn't reach the door to save his life.

He stretched his arm out in front of him to try to reach the door. He'd be damned if he came this far only to be thwarted by a door. "Come on," he groaned, his arm reaching out. He pulled it back, and made a punching motion. "Shazam!" Nothing happened.

The next thing he tried to do was swing, but the cables were taut. If only he had a utility belt filled with gadgets—his belt! He could wrap one end of his to the cable, and he could hold on to the other end. That should provide enough length for him to pry open the door.

With one hand unbuckling his belt, the other held on tightly to the cable. He silently thanked Mr. Gottlieb, his high school gym teacher, for forcing him to climb the ropes in gym class. He remembered that he was pretty good at it, even though he was afraid of heights.

Finally, he was able to pull his belt from his waistband. Holding the belt buckle between his teeth, Chuck wrapped the end of the belt around the cable with one hand, by reaching his left arm over his right, and behind the cable. He pulled the end of the belt close to his mouth, slid it through the buckle, and pulled it tightly.

When he was done, he wrapped his left leg around the cable, and held on tightly to his belt as he leaned forward. He guessed that he was at a thirty degree angle, and he was easily able to reach the sliding metal doors with his right hand. Digging his finger into the crack of the door, he pulled it to side as hard as he could. The door opened all the way.

Chuck pulled himself back to the cable, and unwrapped his belt from it. He threw the belt through the door, and he took a deep breath. To be safe, he decided to flash. It would not only be painful, but really embarrassing if he made it this far up, only to not make the jump.

His limbs felt stronger, and his body lighter, as Chuck launched himself off the cable and through the door, landing in roll. He picked his belt up from the floor, and quickly began to put it around his waist as the flash faded. He felt heavy again, and his arms were extremely sore.

"Gah!" he groaned painfully, rolling his arms and massaging his shoulders.

Remembering that he needed to create a loop in the security feed, Chuck began to hack into the hotel's wireless network from his wrist computer. The computer did most of the heavy lifting, and seconds later, he was in the security feed. His finger raced across the screen as he began to set up a video loop to five minutes prior to his arrival.

Chuck needed to come up with an escape route, because there was no way that he would be able to safely get Wally down the elevator shaft. He loaded up the blueprints on his wrist computer. He saw that he was in the loading room. There were only two options to get Wally out. The first was that he could _try_ to hold on to the roided out man and climb back down the cables of the cargo elevator. The chances of Chuck not dropping Wally down the shaft to his death were low. The next option was risky, but it did ensure Wally lived. There was a large, thirty foot pool right outside room 732. They were only seven stories high, and although it was cruel, Chuck would be able to push Wally off the balcony to land safely, well, alive in the pool.

He decided to go with option two. After all, Wally _was_ extremely rude to Sarah earlier.

As he approached the door, he detached the ultrasonic frequency emitter from his wrist computer, and slid it underneath the door. Straightening up, Chuck activated the device. The visors slid down over his eyes, and for a brief second, all Chuck could see was white until three dimensional images of the hallway outside began to form. No one was outside, so he shut the sonar off.

Opening the door as quietly as he could, he bent down to pick up the frequency emitter off the ground, attached it back to his wrist computer, and tiptoed down the hallway toward Wally's room. The hallway was dark and empty. It was eerie. Every few steps, he would stop to look behind him to see if anyone was there. It was an extremely slow process, but he couldn't risk exposing himself if someone were to leave their room to get some ice.

After what seemed like hours, he was finally in front of Wally's door. He took a blank magnetic card out from his pocket, and inserted it into the door. Then he pulled an extension from his wrist computer, and hooked it up to the door. Immediately, his computer began to process the code.

The door unlocked, letting out what seemed like a deafening clicking noise that seemed to echo down the quiet hallway. Almost instantly, the door shot open, sending Chuck back into the wall behind him. The next thing he saw was an angry glare radiating off of Wally's face as his Hulk hands made contact with Chuck's face. The force of Wally's punch snapped Chuck's head back against the wall.

Chuck sucked in a deep breath, and cleared his mind as he flashed on Tae-Kwon-Do. The flash cleared in time for him to see Wally about to deliver a wide, right haymaker to his face. Chuck braced himself by performing a left hook block, and he felt Wally's arm colliding with his wrist computer, causing the visors in his mask to slide down.

All Chuck could see was a blinding white light. He felt as though someone shot a bowling ball from a cannon into his stomach when Wally either delivered a body punch or a low snap kick to his gut. Once again, he was thrown backwards into the wall. Wally grabbed him by the shirt collar, and threw him off to the side. Chuck barrel rolled down the hall, hoping it would give him enough time to deactivate the sonar.

"Sonar off!" he yelled into his left wrist. Finally, the visors slid back up.

As he tried to adjust his eyes back to the darkness, Wally pulled him up from the ground, and flipped him around to put him in a sleeper hold.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it," Wally snarled. Once again, Wally's high voice would have been extremely funny under different circumstances. "I only want to know two things before I kill you: who's your mole inside Omega, and where's Orion?"

"I have an idea," Chuck choked out. "How about you tell me who and where the Architect is, and I'll tell you where Orion is? We can make a game out of it!"

Thankfully, Wally was as dumb as he appeared. He loosened his arms around Chuck's neck, and Chuck kicked off of the wall sideways, causing Wally to lose his balance. As he and Wally fell back down to the ground, he gratefully sucked in a breath of air. He somersaulted backwards up to his feet. Wally began to stand back up as well. Chuck ran toward him, attempting a twisting butterfly kick.

He kicked off the ground with his right leg, and he twisted his body in the air. Wally was fast. He ducked underneath the kick, and as Chuck landed, Wally landed a right jab to Chuck's nose. This time, Chuck heard a loud crunch as Wally's fist connected with his nose. Blood began to gush down his face as he stumbled backwards from the force of Wally's punch.

Chuck shook his head, and he flashed again. This time, he flashed on Krav Maga. Wally rushed toward him, his fist cocked back, ready to deliver another haymaker to Chuck. He caught Wally's arm and twisted his wrist back, jumping up to wrap his left leg around Wally's throat. If Wally weren't such a big man, he would have been down on the ground by now, allowing Chuck to keep him in a triangle hold. However, Wally _was_ a big man. An angry, big, roided out man.

Chuck's hands held Wally's arms in a wristlock, while his legs tried to deprive Wally of oxygen. No matter how much he shifted his momentum, Chuck just could not bring Wally down. He released the wristlock, but kept his legs wrapped around Wally's neck. He pulled himself forward and delivered right and left hook punches to Wally's face. Instead of collapsing to the ground, Wally grabbed both of Chuck's arms, and slammed him down hard.

The breath was knocked out of him. Wally was like Bane from the Batman comics, Chuck realized. Except that he wasn't from the Caribbean, nor was he a genius. But he still had the strength of ten me, and he was tough as hell.

Chuck quickly stood up, ignoring the pain from all of the punches that Wally had landed. He looked down to see that Wally was down on his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath. Flicking his right wrist, his tranq pistol sprang into his hand. He quickly fired a dart into Wally's neck, and tried to lift the bastard into a fireman's carry, but he was too heavy.

A door creaked open, and Chuck looked up to see a man stepping out of his room. Luckily for Chuck, the man was looking down the other end of the hallway.

If Chuck was seen by a civilian, then there was no doubt that the wider public would know about him. If he went back to his handlers all busted up and bruised, and they heard about a break in by a masked man at the Marriot Hotel the same night that he was able to slip past them, they would be able to put two and two together.

Wally was too heavy for Chuck to pick up in a hurry. As the man by the open door slowly began to turn his head, Chuck pulled the dart out of Wally's neck, and pocketed it. He quickly turned around, and sprinted inside room 732.

Slamming the door shut, he tore off the computer from his wrist. There was a tiny crack on the screen from the haymaker that he had blocked earlier, but it should still be fine.

Chuck unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, and stretched his armor out to keep the computer in there. He couldn't remember whether the suit was waterproof or not, but he didn't have time to think about that. Striding across the room, Chuck slid the glass door to the balcony open. He took a few steps back so that he could get a running start. As he was about to sprint forward, he hesitated, suddenly afraid. What if he didn't jump far enough? What if his foot got caught on the railing?

He shoved his fears aside. Inhaling in a deep breath, he sprinted toward the railing. When he was roughly two feet away from it, he jumped, and kicked off of the railing. As he plummeted down to the pool, he was thankful that he lived in California where the sun was always shining, and swimming pools rarely closed.

* * *

**October 3, 2007  
Sarah's Penthouse  
12:55 AM PST**

She was sitting on her bed, leaning her back against the headboard. Sarah was tired, but she couldn't sleep. She was used to nights like this. Nights where the adrenaline from her previous mission pumped through her veins, feeling wired. But tonight was different.

Kicking the blanket off her legs, Sarah got out of her bed. She walked over to her window, and leaned her forehead against the cool glass. Her breath fogged up the window. Taking a step back, she amused herself by drawing a stick figure in the fog. She chuckled as she drew a crooked smile on the stick figure. It reminded her of the last time she saw Chuck in San Francisco; tall, and lanky, complete with a goofy grin.

As the foggy stick figure faded away, she heard Chuck's voice echoing in her head.

"My best friend from childhood."

"She was my first crush."

"I really do cherish every second that we spend together."

A few years ago, Carina had told her that she wanted to quit the CIA. When Sarah asked why, Carina had responded with, "There's a reason why never falling in love is the cardinal rule of spying, Walker. Because when we do fall in love, then that's the only thing that matters to us. We don't care about anything else."

Sarah wasn't in love. At least, she didn't think she was. Not yet. But she knew it was going to happen. The longer she stayed here, the more time she spent with Chuck, her feelings for him were going to grow stronger with each passing day. She tried to fight them, but she couldn't. She tried to be cold to him, treat him like she would any other assent, but she couldn't.

He's Chuck, she reasoned. How could she push him away when he made her laugh, and blush, and feel good about herself? How could she push him away when he was already so close to her?

There was a gentle knock from her door. "Walker, it's Casey. You up?"

Frowning, Sarah walked over to her door. What was Casey doing here so late? He wasn't following Chuck, was he? "What are you doing here so late?" she asked when she opened the door.

Casey held up two large duffle bags. "I had to get the rest of my stuff."

Sarah stared at the bags, and stepped aside so that Casey can come in. "How many guns did you plant at Chuck's house?"

"About twelve," he replied, dropping the bags by her door. "But I can't sleep without an M4 at least thirty feet away from me."

"So you came back to grab your rifle?" she asked, walking over to the mini-fridge. She held up a bottled water.

"Yeah," replied Casey, catching the bottle after Sarah tossed it to him. "I came to get the rifle and some other supplies. I was thinking about going to Large Mart to get a microwave for myself. Lady Bartowski doesn't like them; neither does his sister," he finished with a chuckle.

"You know, Casey," said Sarah frowning. She sat down on a chair across from him. "You should be nicer to Chuck. There really is no need for you to be such an ass to him. It's not like he asked for you to be his butler."

"Yeah, I know," he said, scratching his head. "I'm not gonna lie, I feel bad about it. The kid did a lot to help our team, not only tonight, but with his satellites. I was out of line."

Yeah, you were, Sarah silently agreed while she took a sip of water.

"That's why I let the kid go over to Larkin's tonight," said Casey. "I felt bad for the guy. The kid had a tough life."

"Aw…is the ice around your heart finally melting?" Sarah teased.

"I'm serious," said Casey. "Did you know that his parents left him and his sister when they were kids?"

"I was there when his mom left," she said, remembering how hurt Chuck was that night.

"Yeah, well, the kid's had himself a tough life," Casey repeated. "Working his ass off in high school, working his ass off in college, and starting up that company of his? I have to respect that."

She nodded in agreement.

"Anyway, my point is, while I do respect the kid, we can't let him go out on his own like this. Fulcrum and the Ring are still out there. By tomorrow, when those pictures that the paparazzi took of you hit the websites, they're going to know that Bartowski has handlers. That's going to put all of us on their radar."

"I know," said Sarah, realizing something. As long as Fulcrum and the Ring were around, Chuck would always need to have handlers around him. She grimaced at the thought, feeling sympathetic for him. He would never be able to live a normal life until they were out of the way. "This is pretty much his last night living a normal life. I feel terrible for him," she sighed.

Casey frowned, and studied her for a moment, making her feel slightly uncomfortable; as if she was a book lying open on a coffee table. "You really care about Bartowski, don't you?"

"Yep," she replied bluntly. There was no point in sugar coating it.

"So what are you going to do after we catch Osiris?"

Sarah looked at Casey with an abashed expression. "I'm going to have to go back to DC," she said. "It's not like I have another choice."

He responded with a look mixed with skepticism and regret.

What did he have to regret? Sarah wondered.

"We all have the right to make a choice to leave," he said gravely.

"Why would I leave for Chuck?" she asked. It's not like he would have her, anyway.

Casey chuckled. "You can deny it all you want, Walker, but everyone around you can sense your lady-feelings for Bartowski. Just know, when we catch Osiris, and the time comes for us to pack up and go back to DC, if you regret leaving Bartowski behind, you're probably going to compromise your future missions. The CIA will most likely have you pushing pencils if that happens." He stood up and placed the lid to his water bottle back on. "Anyway, it's just something for you to think about."

As he picked his bags off the floor and walked back over to the door, Sarah remained seated in her chair. She knew the process of a field agent retiring from the company was long. She'd have to attend workshops, and go through rigorous tests to see how well she'd adapt to civilian life. Afterwards, she'd have to go through a cover process, and sign a secrecy agreement. Supposedly, that was all it took, but Sarah had a feeling that there was more to the process. She wouldn't be surprised if Graham would send agents to monitor her from time to time.

"Night, Walker," said Casey, making his way out the door.

"I take it that you made the wrong choice?" she called out to him before he shut the door.

Casey glanced over his shoulder, and remained silent for a moment, regret etched on his face. "Yeah," he replied. "Sometimes it feels that way."

She nodded as Casey left her room, gently shutting the door. It was rare for Casey to give her advice, but when he did, he knew how to pack a punch. She wanted to ask him some more questions about his past, but she decided not to. It was enough to admit that even he—the stone-cold NSA agent had more to him than bonsai trees and Ronald Reagan—did have his doubts about the life he chose to live.

Sighing, Sarah moved off the chair, and cranked her neck to the side until she heard a popping noise. She decided to worry about all of this later. They didn't even know where Osiris was. For all she knew, Osiris was probably not in California.

There wasn't any evidence indicating that he lived here, she thought, yawning.

Sleepily, she walked back over to her bed, and threw the covers off. Just as she had bent down to plop herself on the top of her bed, her phone began to ring.

Sarah walked over to her dresser, and grabbed her phone. Chuck's name was flashing on the screen. Before she answered, she looked at the digital clock on her bedside table. It was 1:40. Why would Chuck be calling her so late?

She flipped her phone. "Hey, Chuck," she said.

"I'm sorry for calling so late, I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, you didn't wake me," replied Sarah, sitting on the edge of her bed. "What's up?"

"I…uh...got carjacked," he replied. "Do you think you can give me a ride home?"

"Oh my god!" she cried, smacking her hand up to her forehead, and hoping that Chuck wasn't hurt. This was all her fault. She was the one that convinced Casey to let Chuck out for the night, and then he ended up getting carjacked. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Yeah, yeah…I'm fine," he said, chuckling nervously. "Just a little…scraped up."

"What?"

"It's not so bad!" Chuck insisted.

Sarah hoped that Chuck left the GPS on his car on. She was going to find the bastard who carjacked him, and kick his ass. Leaning her phone between her ear and shoulder, she walked over to her laptop, and searched for the coordinates on Chuck's watch. He was roughly twenty miles away. "I'll be there in a bit. Stay where you are."

"Yes'm," said Chuck. Sarah was about to flip her phone shut, but she heard Chuck's voice again. "Sarah, I am _so_ sorry!"

"It's not your fault," she said. "Just hold on, okay? I'll be there soon."

Flipping her phone shut, she slammed it back down on top of her dresser as she began to change her clothes.

* * *

**October 3, 2007  
Orion's Den  
01:25 AM PST**

His entire body ached as he made his way down the stairs. His face was covered in bruises and his lips were busted open, making it look like he had tried to kiss his razor. Water was still dripping from his hair and his suit as his shoes made a wet smacking noise after each step he took. What hurt the most was the look of disappointment on his father's face.

Not bothering to ask whether Chuck was okay or not, Stephen just shook his head. "Why isn't Johnson here?"

Chuck sighed. "Apart from getting punched repeatedly by Bane's sledgehammer-like fists, I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

"What happened, Chuck?" piped up Bryce, rotating his wheelchair around so that Chuck could step up on the back spokes.

"Wally ambushed me in the hall—he was expecting me—and a civilian came out of their room, and I panicked," he replied as Bryce wheeled him to the office. "I had Wally tranq'ed, but he was too heavy to carry. I didn't have time to think, so I ran. I didn't want a civilian to see me."

Stephen let out a frustrated groan. "You didn't want a civilian to see you, yet you expose him to an unconscious man lying in the middle of the hallway? Now the cops are going to be involved, and it'll only be a matter of time before the CIA finds out that a masked man—the same masked man that they're looking for—was responsible."

Chuck plopped down on a chair in the office, and let out a disappointed moan. He didn't even think that far. "I'm sorry, Dad! I panicked! I didn't have time to think!" he insisted.

Stephen ignored him, and turned to Bryce. "Check Graham and Beckman's phones," he instructed. "See if they got any calls from any of the field agents from LA." Bryce nodded, and went over to a computer, placing a pair of headphones over his ears. Stephen turned back to Chuck. "Charles, you're smarter than that! You should have sedated the civilian."

"You know what, Dad?" Chuck felt a wave of anger rushing over him. "I've never even had proper training when it comes to this stuff! In case you forgot, I've only been at this for six months! Without proper training! In those six months, how many successful missions have I been on? And I say again, without having been properly trained?"

"That's not the point, Charles—"

"In six months, I went on five missions that have all been successful," he interrupted. Although the 2.0 did most of the heavy lifting, it didn't do everything for him.

"And you failed the last two."

Chuck leaned back in his chair in frustration, and looked away from Stephen. There was no winning against his father.

"No calls were made to either Beckman or Graham," said Bryce, moving back next to Chuck. "But it could be because Wally's still unconscious. I wish we could see what happened after Chuck left."

"Wait," said Chuck, remembering something. "I'm still tapped into the hotel's security feed. I blocked a punch from Wally, and he cracked the screen on the wrist computer." He pulled the wrist computer out from under his armor. "But we can still see the security feed if we hook it up to the main computer."

"He—what?" demanded Stephen, grabbing the computer from Chuck's hand.

"That wasn't my fault," said Chuck quickly, pointing at the computer. "Wally was going for a knockout punch, and I had to block it."

"No, I know," said Stephen, hooking the wrist computer up to the main module. "It's just going to take a couple of days to fix."

"Oh…"

"And you leave for Virginia tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh," Chuck repeated. "Maybe we can set the meeting back?"

"No, just take one of my laptops," said Stephen. "It's clunky, but that'll get the job done."

"Yeah, fine," said Chuck. Although, it wasn't fine; he was sore, and he hasn't slept very well for the past couple of nights. He really just wanted to take a break, but he knew that his father wouldn't like that.

He looked up at the large monitor as the hotel's security feed loaded. "We were on the seventh floor."

Stephen hit a key on the keyboard, and a familiar, empty hallway filled the screen.

"It was about thirty minutes ago," said Chuck. "Rewind the feed."

"There it is!" Bryce exclaimed when he saw a masked Chuck getting thrown back into a wall.

Chuck winced as he saw himself on the receiving end of a right cross from Wally. "Yeah, we can just fast forward through this," he said uncomfortably.

"Wait," said Bryce, looking excitedly up at the screen. "Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, laughing as Wally landed another punch on Chuck's face that sent him flying a few yards back. "This guy's a beast!"

"Yep…so why don't we—"

"Did you just flash on Krav Maga?"

"Yeah, we're wasting a lot of time by watching this, so let's just fast forward—" Chuck insisted.

"You look like a monkey trying to bring down a big tree branch!" Bryce laughed, ignoring Chuck, and looking gleefully up at the screen where Chuck had his legs wrapped around Wally's throat. "OH!" he exclaimed loudly when Wally slammed Chuck down to the ground. He turned back to Chuck. "You need to use your speed, man, if you want to take him down next time."

"Yeah, I know _that_," said Chuck, rolling his eyes. "But seeing as I was blinded for a good twenty seconds, it was kind of hard to be fast."

"Maybe you should watch _Bloodsport_ again," Bryce cracked. "Or _Rocky III_."

Chuck ignored him as Stephen finally began to fast forward. The man that caused him to leave Wally and run, came out of his room to check on Wally, and called someone (the police, Chuck presumed) on his cell phone. A few more seconds went by, and two paramedics showed up to the scene accompanied by two police officers.

"Well, as you can see, the cops are involved now," said Stephen in a disappointed tone. "It's only a matter of time before the CIA gets wind that Johnson was attacked by a masked man."

"Wait," said Chuck, moving his chair closer to the screen to get a better look at the police officers. He squinted at the female cop. She had dark brown hair, heavy eyelids, dark eyes, and an angular face. "Pause the feed."

**A 1950's New York taxicab  
Sydney Prince  
DOB: 08/16/1972  
OMEGA: Field Agent  
A 1950's New York taxicab**

He gasped and pointed to the screen. "She's Omega. They all are."

"They must be members of Johnson's team," said Stephen.

"They're covering it up," said Chuck, watching as two of the Omega operatives lifted Wally from a stretcher. Why would Omega not want the CIA to know that Osiris attacked someone? Wouldn't that make the search for him easier? "Why would they cover it up?"

"You and Johnson spoke to each other before he activated your sonar, right?" asked Stephen.

Chuck nodded. "Barely."

"What did he say?"

"He wanted to know who our mole inside Omega was, and where you were," Chuck replied. "But Omega already has people in the CIA. It would be easier for them to let the CIA know what happened, wouldn't it?"

Stephen looked lost in thought for a moment. "Not everyone in the CIA is a part of Omega. I'm pretty sure they don't want Johnson to be investigated. By now, the CIA knows enough to know that Osiris wouldn't attack random civilians. They would want to know why he was a target."

Chuck nodded. He guessed that even if the CIA couldn't dig up any dirt on Wally, they'd keep him under constant surveillance. That would definitely make it hard for Wally to try to sabotage Roark Industries if that was what he was trying to do.

But if Wally was successful in taking RI down, that would cause a pretty serious dent in the economy. Roark has over 60,000 employees around the world, and if they all lost their jobs then Omega was one step closer to their plans of creating a global economic crisis.

"You got lucky tonight, Chuck," said Bryce, clapping Chuck's shoulder. "Man, if your handlers see you covered in all those bruises after hearing that Osiris got in a scuffle with Wally, they're probably going to guess that you're Osiris. At the very least, you'd probably be a suspect."

He _was_ lucky that Omega decided to cover up what happened earlier that night, but he couldn't help but feel that if he was _truly_ lucky, then his face wouldn't be covered in bruises, and that his nose wouldn't have swelled to the size of a softball.

Chuck was about to ask how he was going to explain his injuries when Jill walked into the room. She let out a shocked gasp and rushed over to Chuck. "Oh my God, Chuck! Are you okay?"

"I guess I am."

"Why didn't any of you tell me that Chuck was hurt?" she demanded, glaring at his father and Bryce. "I'll go get you an icepack and the first-aid kit."

"No, don't do that," said Stephen.

Both Chuck and Jill's mouths dropped. Sure, there were times when his father was slightly cruel, but this was crossing the line! Chuck was still in pain! He had indeed messed the mission up tonight, but it wasn't entirely his fault. If this was a way for Stephen to punish him, then this was a really out of character for him.

"Sarah's going to take care of you," said Stephen.

"What?"

"In September alone, there have been fifteen people that filed reports that their cars had been jacked."

"Wait—you want me to tell them that someone stole my car and beat me up?" asked Chuck. "What happens when we find my car and it's still in one piece?"

For the first time since Chuck could remember, his father had an apologetic expression on his face.

"What happens when we find my car, and it's still in one piece?" he repeated sharply. Fearing for the worst, his heart began to pound in his chest.

"Charles, your car…won't be in one piece," Stephen replied softly, purposely avoiding eye contact with Chuck. "I'm going to strip the engine, and ditch the body by the L.A. River."

He sprang to his feet. "That is just _OVERKILL_, Dad!"

"Everyone who had their cars stolen in the past month, had their cars found stripped of their parts by the L.A. River."

"Look at it this way, Chuck," said Bryce, grinning. "When the CIA gets wind that one of their associates had their car stolen, they will want to find the guy who's been stealing peoples' cars. You'll really be doing the community a favor, because the CIA will probably find him in a few days."

Chuck wasn't in the mood for one of Bryce's stupid jokes. He was the funny one; not Bryce. Bryce was supposed to be the man-whore, and Chuck was supposed to be the comic relief.

He flashed a glare in Bryce's direction before he turned back to his father. "Listen, Dad, why don't I just douse myself in scotch, and we can say that Bryce had to give me a ride home because I'm drunk? While driving me home, we can say Bryce's _van_ was stolen, and _that's_ how I got beat up?"

"Well, first of all, Charles, Ellie thinks that Bryce is dead," Stephen replied. "Secondly, who would want to steal a man in a wheelchair's van?"

"I don't know," Chuck huffed in frustration. "A hungry, obese man who's too lazy to climb into a car? Maybe a woman in labor's husband whose car just broke down by the side of the road? I'm just spit-balling here, but I'm sure we can come up with something better than me actually having to give up my car!"

"What's the big deal, Chuck? You've got tons of money. You can get another one."

"_No_, I can't!" He was lucky to even get his M5 when it first came out. "I called about six months ahead to get that M5, and now, there's a two year waiting list! If Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark were real, even they couldn't get one right now if they wanted to!"

"Maybe you should have driven your Aston Martin," Bryce suggested.

"'Maybe you should have driven your Aston Martin,'" he mimicked childishly. "Well, maybe _you_ should be a _standup _comedian!"

"Chuck!" Jill reprimanded, scowling at him. But Bryce just laughed.

The little comment was uncalled for, he knew, but he had just had an all-around bad night. First, Wally had talked to Sarah as though she was a piece of meat. Then, _Sarah_ got mad at _him_ for "flirting" with that sandwich girl. After that, Wally kicked his ass. And now, he had to give up his car. He loved that car! It was fancy, but in a subtle way. Not to mention, he and Sarah had fun racing their cars together. They already shared something due to that car.

"I'm sorry, Charles, but we don't have much time to think about other options at the moment," said Stephen. "I'm sure that John Casey is waiting up for you—" Bryce snickered. "—and you need to get home soon before he comes here looking for you."

And if Casey saw the bruises on his face before he had a chance to tell him his cover story, then they would be even more difficult to explain.

"You smell like chlorine," Stephen continued. "Take a quick shower, and we're probably going to have to reopen your wounds so that they look fresh. I'll drop you off close to Sarah's hotel, and she'll take care of them for you. I'll bring the car back here, and I'll strip it for parts. It'll show up by the L.A. River Thursday night."

Chuck wanted to argue, but there was no point. Stephen was probably the most stubborn man on the planet. Once he had his mind set on something, then they always had to do things his way. Grumbling, Chuck tore off his shirt, and made his way up the stairs to take a shower.

* * *

**October 3, 2007  
Sarah's Penthouse  
02:15 AM PST**

"Ow!" Chuck yelped, wincing as Sarah tried to clean out one of his cuts with a rubbing alcohol soaked cotton swab.

"I'm sorry! I know it hurts, but keep still, Chuck," she said, slapping his hand away from his face. "It only stings for a little bit anyway."

She found him about thirty minutes ago at a bus stop bench in Encino. After arguing for a good ten minutes about whether he should go to a hospital or not, Chuck had won. Now, they were sitting across from each other while Sarah cleaned his wounds. Casey and Carina were watching them from the loveseat across the room with bored expressions on their faces. Every time Chuck winced, Sarah winced back in sympathy.

She felt terrible, feeling as though what happened to him was her fault. She just tried to do one nice thing for Chuck, and it backfired on her. Casey was beyond pissed, but Sarah guessed that was mostly due to the fact that Large Mart wasn't open for twenty-four hours. Luckily, Chuck had called his publicist to make sure his car getting stolen wouldn't be in the papers the next morning. Upon Chuck's insistence, everyone agreed not to report what had happened to Graham and Beckman, since what happened to him was a freak accident, and they were all lucky that Chuck wasn't kidnapped. Technically, Sarah and her partners were in the clear, but that didn't stop her from feeling guilty about what had happened to Chuck.

She placed one last band-aid on Chuck's cheek. "Okay, we're done with the cuts," she said, grimacing at Chuck's crooked nose. "But your nose is crooked…um," she turned to Casey, "Casey, can you pop Chuck's nose back in so that it's straight when the bone heals?"

Casey grunted his consent, but Chuck just had a horrified expression on his face. "Can't you set it?" he asked her pleadingly.

Sarah frowned. "I could, but Casey's better at it," she replied.

"Don't be such a girl, Bartowski," said Casey, nudging Sarah out of her chair. She stood out of the way as Casey pointed to his nose. "See this baby? It's straight as an arrow. Wanna know how many times it's been broken?"

"I don't really care, to be honest."

"Five times, it's been broken." Casey cracked his knuckles, and placed his thumbs on the bridge of Chuck's nose.

Chuck's eyes widened in fear. "No, wait—"

Sarah turned away in time to hear a soft _pop_ and a shrill yelp escape Chuck's throat.

"There you go, princess," said Casey, brushing his hands off on his pants. "Try to avoid touching it for a few days. It'll heal up nice and straight."

"_Guh_…thanks," Chuck murmured weakly. "And I'm sorry that I'm depriving everyone of their sleep."

"You can make it up to me tomorrow night on our business trip," Carina called from the loveseat.

Unintentionally, Sarah flashed a glare in Carina's direction. For the most part, Carina was predictable in the sense that Sarah always knew that she would improvise while on missions and that she would always say something inappropriate. She liked Carina, she really did, but Carina had a habit of taking things that Sarah wanted. There was once a time when Sarah had a slight crush on Bryce, and Carina took him. It didn't matter that much, because although Bryce was handsome, he was also arrogant and cocky.

But Carina really needed to cool it when it came to Chuck. Even though Carina was a good person, Chuck could do better than her. She wouldn't get Chuck's nerdy sense of humor.

She was relieved when Chuck rolled his eyes and ignored Carina.

"It's better to ignore _Whore-_ina, Bartowski," said Casey. "She's a global bicycle."

"I'm sorry that I've got needs, Johnny-boy," Carina deadpanned.

Casey snickered, and got off the chair so that Sarah could sit back down. "Well, I'm sorry to say this, Bartowski, but no more going out on your own from now on. I know what happened was an accident, but we gotta keep an eye on you at all times. It's our job."

"Yeah, yeah…I know," said Chuck, sighing disappointedly.

There was another tugging feeling in her chest. It wasn't fair to Chuck that someone would have to watch him around the clock, she thought.

"Do any of you know if there are any stores selling microwaves that are still open?" asked Casey.

"Ellie doesn't like microwaves," said Chuck.

"I know that. I'm going to keep it in the pool house."

"Do you really need a microwave that badly?" Sarah grinned amusedly up at Casey.

"I've got a bulk package of Hot Pockets, variety of flavors, and a man's gotta eat, Walker."

"There's a twenty-four hour Super Large Mart not too far from here," said Chuck.

"I already went to the one by the Buy More."

"That's a regular Large Mart. You want the Super Large Mart. Just head southbound on the Five, and take the first exit. It's right there. You can't miss it."

"Alright," said Casey, nodding. "I'm going to pick up a microwave, and I'll be back to take you home. Walker, why don't you teach the kid how to apply his makeup?"

Sarah nodded, and was about to reply, but Chuck cut her off.

"Why do I need to learn how to put on makeup?" he asked quickly.

Casey chuckled and stalked out of the room. Sarah smiled at Chuck. "Because you have a meeting in Virginia in two days, and you want to look presentable, don't you?"

"That would be pretty cool," said Chuck. "They'll think I'm in some underground fight club."

Sarah chuckled. "Either that, or they'll think that your girlfriend beat you up."

He tried to grin, but he winced. He quickly recovered and held his arms out to his side. "You think you can take me, Walker?" he quipped.

"Definitely," she teased back, sweeping her leg behind his, and kicking it up to her lap. She quickly began to untie his shoelaces.

"What—what are you doing?" Chuck yelled. "No! Don't tickle my feet!"

She held firmly onto Chuck's leg as he tried to squirm away. She nearly let go from laughing so hard, but she was finally able to pull his shoe off. From there, it was clockwork. She tickled the bottom of his foot while he let out a series of high-pitched giggles.

"Stop! I'm sorry! You can totally kick my ass!" he cried, trying to catch his breath from laughing. "Uncle! _Uncle!_"

"I'm not going to stop until you do the truffle shuffle!" she yelled over his laughter even though he most likely had no flab to jiggle. This was a game that they had played when they were children. She would tickle his foot until he gave in, or he would tickle her underneath her ribs until she gave in. The loser always had to perform the truffle shuffle.

The parts of Chuck's face that wasn't bruised were beet red. His hands were balled into fists, and his body convulsed as she continued to tickle his foot. "No! Never!"

Sarah wriggled her fingers into his foot harder.

"Okay! Okay!" he cried, taking in a deep breath. "I'll do it!"

Sarah ceased tickling, but she still held on to his foot. "You promise that you'll do it?"

Chuck nodded, still trying to squirm his foot away from her grasp.

"You better not run," she warned.

"I won't, I promise that I'll do the truffle shuffle."

Sarah released his foot, as he begrudgingly stood up. He lifted his shirt, causing Sarah to hold in a gasp. When did Chuck get abs like that?

She couldn't stop staring at his nicely toned abs and his light happy trail as he wriggled his torso.

"There! You happy? Uh…Sarah? Hello?"

She shook her head. "What? Yeah!" She was _really_ happy. "That's good. Uh…you can…" she swallowed, noticing that Chuck hadn't put his shirt down yet. "You can sit back down now."

He sat back down on his chair, and grinned crookedly. "I can't believe you still remember that."

"Remember what?" she asked, still dazed by the memory of his magnificent abs.

"To tickle my foot."

"Oh, yeah," she said, laughing. "What can I say? I've got a good memory."

"That's for sure," he agreed.

He was still smiling, and Sarah didn't know why she wasn't sitting in his lap, kissing him (and maybe more) like there was no tomorrow. And then, Carina spoke up.

"You really need to get laid," she said, getting up from the loveseat, and making her way toward the door. "The both of you. Together." She opened the door and put one of her feet outside. "Leave some for me, Sarah. I'll see you later, Chucky."

At that, she left Sarah's room, slamming the door behind her. Sarah felt her cheeks burning, and she couldn't bring herself to match Chuck's gaze. Instead, she stared intently down at the table, embarrassed.

"So…uh…I'll teach you how to apply the concealer," she choked out. "Don't worry, Chuck, even guy spies use it. Actually, you should ask Casey how to apply it. He's better than I am," she joked to break the awkward tension.

To her relief, he chuckled. "Fine. I guess I'll have to endure it."

She grabbed a bag from underneath the table, ignoring the sinking feeling in her chest, and began digging through it. A few seconds later, she held a tube out in front of her. "This is concealer. What you want to do is…"

* * *

**October 3, 2007  
En Route to LAX  
3:30 PM PST**

Her day was uneventful. Sarah spent most of her day filing through most of the employees inside the corporate branch to see if there were any Fulcrum or Ring agents. Then, she had interviewed three people hoping to get a job in the finance department. The only one worth hiring was a recent divorcee named Sydney Prince. She had worked as the head accountant at the corporate branch for a major bank in New York City for the last seven years, and had moved to Los Angeles to start a new life for herself.

People, mostly women, gave Sarah dirty looks whenever she went into the break room to fix herself a cup of tea. At first, she was baffled, but she quickly realized that they were jealous that she was dating Chuck. They also seemed to think that she only got the job because they thought she was sleeping with him, which didn't make any sense to her. If she did get her job because she was sleeping with Chuck (to her slight disappointment, she wasn't), wouldn't she have a higher position?

Carina and Casey went to the meeting with Stavros. That was uneventful as well. Everything went according to plan, except Sarah had come up with the idea to have Chuck call Carina before the meeting ended to say that he found someone else to run his fictional club chain. They got all the intel they needed, and by this time tomorrow, Sarah and Casey were going to be parked outside of Fulcrum's new headquarters in West Covina to see if Osiris would show up. She made a mental note to ask Graham if she and Casey could just go into the headquarters, and capture the Fulcrum Elders. Maybe then, Fulcrum would be taken care of, and Chuck would be that much closer to living his old life again.

Now, she and Chuck were sitting in the back of Carina's rental car, a Lexus IS300. She was tired, and she could see that Chuck was also tired. His eyelids were drooping down.

Sarah turned to look out her window. Remembering what Casey had told her last night, she sighed. Graham wouldn't let her go until Osiris was killed or captured. There was no way that he'd let an agent quit while they're in the middle of a mission. She knew that she had the right to quit the agency, but would it be worth it? Chuck may not even want her.

"You okay back there, Walker?" Carina asked in Swedish, eyeing Sarah from the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, just tired," she replied back in Polish.

"I bet you are," said Carina teasingly. "I mean, your mind must have been racing all day."

"About what?" she scoffed.

"You know who, back there…sleeping all cute-like."

Sarah turned back to Chuck to see if he fell asleep. He was snoring softly with his head tilted back.

"You can just ask me, you know."

"Ask you what?" Sarah had really had enough of Carina's mind games. They were just annoying.

"Not to sleep with him, dummy."

She choked on a bit of spit and began to cough.

"I mean, he's a hot boy, I'm a hot girl," Carina pushed forward, "it would only make sense for us to have a good screw, but if you ask me not to, then he's all yours."

"Carina, Chuck is our asset," said Sarah defensively. "Just leave the guy alone, okay?"

"Chuck may be a nice guy, but even nice guys know they would be idiots to pass a girl like me up. I see it as doing him a favor."

Sarah knew what Carina was doing. The redhead was trying to expose her weaknesses; to get her to admit that she had feelings for Chuck in front of him. Normally, Sarah wouldn't feel threatened, but Carina was right. Although Chuck was an incredibly kind man, it didn't change the fact that he was a man. Spending the next thirty-two hours alone with Carina would be more than enough time for her to seduce him. All of a sudden, Sarah felt threatened.

Her face burning red, she made eye-contact with Carina through the rearview mirror, barely caring that she was about to admit defeat. She responded with the deadliest glare that she could muster, and in response, Carina giggled. "Okay, okay, I'll leave him alone, Walker."

Satisfied, Sarah glanced back at Chuck, grateful that he was still asleep.

Carina pulled up to the curb next to the private terminal. Outside, Sarah could see the paparazzi, most likely hoping to get a shot of a celebrity leaving or entering Los Angeles. Ignoring them, Sarah shook Chuck awake. He responded with a loud snore, and sprang up.

"Wha's ron?" he asked groggily.

"We're here," said Sarah, smiling kindly at him.

Chuck looked outside, looking slightly surprised. "Oh…cool." He unbuckled his seatbelt, and let out a long yawn. "Wow! I'm so tired!"

"Get some sleep on the plane," she instructed.

"For sure," he agreed. Sarah made a move to open her door, but Chuck grabbed her wrist. "I'll get it. Just give me a sec."

She was about to tell him that he didn't have to, and that she could open her own door, but Chuck already zoomed out of the car. Sarah bit down on her lip to keep from smiling. It was odd, because whenever she went on missions, and men would offer to open her door, she would fight hard to keep from rolling her eyes.

The door opened, and she took Chuck's outstretched hand as she stepped out of the car. "Thanks."

"No problem," he said, grinning. Still holding her hand, Chuck led her to the back of the car to pull his and Carina's suitcases out of the trunk. When Carina came around, he handed her bag to her.

"Thanks," she said. "Walker, you think you can do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Return this car for me," said Carina, nodding to the Lexus. "It's freaking slow. Tell them I want a black, 2008 Mustang GT?"

"Okay," said Sarah, rolling her eyes. Three agents, all driving black cars. Were they really that boring?

"Thanks." Carina turned back to Chuck. "Let's go, boss."

"Go on ahead," he said. "I'll catch up with you in a bit. I just want a word with Sarah."

She could see Carina biting back her retort as she rolled her eyes. "Fine, but make it snappy. We're running late."

"Dude…it's a private plane," said Chuck. "I own it."

"I'm tired, and I want to take a nap!"

"Okay, I'll make it fast then. Sheesh!"

As Carina stomped away, he turned back to Sarah, chuckling. "So I'll see you Friday morning at the office, right?"

She nodded.

"We have to go out with Ellie and Devon later that night," he said. "You going to be okay with that?"

"Yeah, of course. I want to meet her boyfriend."

"He's a pretty cool dude." Chuck's eyes looked passed her, and he quickly returned her gaze, looking intensely into her eyes. "Those darn paparazzi are back."

Sarah didn't know what to say. She was too busy trying to calm her heart, but she realized that was impossible. "Indeed they are."

"I think we need to help them put their kids through college."

She looked up at him in confusion, wondering what he was talking about. He wasn't going to suggest what she was thinking, was he?

"I think we need to kiss," he said, nodding to agree with his own statement.

"Are you being serious?" Because if he wasn't, she was going to be pissed. In turn, Casey was going to be pissed as well, since she would probably kick and break something of his.

"Yep."

"But you said you had your public image to worry about." She realized that she should just shut her mouth, and regretted saying anything at all, so that he would just kiss her.

"I said that outside of a nightclub frequented by drunk socialites," he reminded her. "We're at an airport, and it's totally normal for a girlfriend to kiss their boyfriend goodbye."

At this point, if Sarah opened her mouth to respond, she would probably let out a high-pitched squeak that only dogs could hear. So she nodded.

He chuckled nervously, moistening his lips, which caused her to stand up on her toes, making her look _way_ too eager. Before she could mentally curse herself for acting like an adolescent teen, Chuck brushed some stray strands of hair away from her face. He rested his hand just below her ear so that his palm was cupping her cheek. A pleasant tingle ran up her spine as he slowly moved closer to her, tilting his head slightly.

Grateful that she decided to pass on Chuck's offer of burritos for lunch, opting for a garden salad, she moved her head closer to his. Before their lips met, she closed her eyes. She felt Chuck's moist lips gently pressing against hers, and subconsciously, her hands sprang up around his face.

Throughout the last five years that she had been a spy, there were times when protocol dictated her actions, and she was forced to kiss someone for a mission. It was safe to assume that Sarah had kissed a fair share of men of all different shapes and sizes. But no one had ever made her feel like this; as though the world around her disappeared, and the only two things that mattered in the world were Sarah and Chuck. She had only felt this way once. Back then, nearly ten years ago, she barely had the chance to feel it. It had happened so quickly that it didn't hit her until minutes later that Chuck was an excellent kisser.

He pulled away slowly, leaving Sarah wanting more. "Wow," he breathed.

"Yeah," she agreed breathlessly.

"Um…so I'll see you on Friday?"

Unable to break eye-contact with Chuck, she nodded. "Definitely. And dinner with Ellie and Devon later that night."

"Well, I guess I better get going then," he whispered, placing another kiss on her forehead.

"Have a safe flight, Chuck."

"Thanks, Sarah. You need to go home and get some rest, okay?"

"I will," she promised, but unsure that she'd be able to keep it. She was going to be up all night with the images of Chuck's rock hard abs and the feeling of his lips against hers. "Bye, Chuck."

He winked. "Later, Sarah."

After one last embrace, Chuck pulled the handle from his suitcase and walked toward the airport entrance. When he got to the sliding glass door, he turned and waved to Sarah. Feeling a huge grin forming on her face, she waved back and watched as Chuck walked through the doors.

* * *

**A/N**: Bet you thought they weren't going to kiss, huh? :-) Thanks for reading! I've said this many times before, but I sure do love getting reviews! I promise the next update won't take so long. I pinky promise!


	7. To: SarahLove: Chuck

**Since it's been awhile…**

**Previously on **_**All the Roads That Lead to You Are Winding:**_Chuck's a masked super-spy, Osiris, fighting against an evil organization called Omega that's hell bent on causing a global economic collapse. He steals information from the CIA, NSA, Fulcrum, and the Ring so that he can figure out who's Omega and who's not. His mother, Mary, is a mole inside Omega, but Chuck's team hasn't talked to her in awhile. The chances of them talking to her any time soon are slim because Omega's aware that they have a mole. Since Chuck's team needs more intel from Fulcrum, they're sending him to Richmond, VA to break into Fulcrum's HQ. The problem with that is, one of Chuck's handlers, CIA Agent Carina Hansen, has to go with him.

Sarah's a CIA agent who's been contemplating some of her life choices. Oh, and she and Chuck are totally in love, but there are a couple of things holding them back, since spies aren't allowed to fall in love. Also, one of the reasons why she's in Los Angeles is because she needs to find Osiris, so it would be pretty awkward if she ever finds out he's Chuck, wouldn't it? For some, odd reason, her bosses, CIA Director, Langston Graham, and NSA Director, General Diane Beckman, decided that it would be a good idea for Sarah and Chuck to cover date. Sarah doesn't mind _too_ much, though. She and Chuck just can't seem to keep their hands to themselves.

**A/N:** I'm sorry it took me close to a year to update, but I broke my old laptop a couple of weeks ago, while I was in the process of writing out this chapter. In fact, I was probably 90% done with the chapter before I accidentally broke the old thing. So re-writing this chapter from scratch has been pretty tough, and I've also been working a lot. So yeah, sorry about that. Thanks goes out to **mxpw** for beta-ing this chapter pretty quickly, considering its length, and being awesome. Another thanks to you guys for reading and leaving reviews! You guys are awesome as well. More from me at the end of the chapter…

* * *

**October 3, 2007  
Chuck's Private Jet  
4:32 PM PST**

Chuck closed the lid on his laptop and cracked his neck. Giving his wrist a quick turn to loosen up the muscles, he reached over and grabbed his glass of whiskey. The liquid warmed the back of his throat soothingly. When he placed the glass down, he chuckled to himself.

"I think we need to help put their kids through college."

Was that smooth? He thought it was, but he couldn't be sure. He was never very good with the ladies. Whether it was smooth or not, Chuck really didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that that kiss? Well, it was just _amazing_.

"What are you so happy about?" asked Carina, startling him and causing him to choke on a bit of scotch. She was sitting across the aisle, facing him with a playful smile. "Were you writing a love letter to Walker?" she asked. "'Dear Sarah, you're so hot! I love you!'"

"No," he replied defensively. "I was writing an email to your bosses, actually."

"Oh yeah? Did you ask them for permission to start making babies with Walker?"

"Oh, for _sure_," he said, rolling his eyes. "Why aren't you sleeping? I thought you were tired."

"I can't sleep on planes," she said, shrugging.

"Why were you in such a hurry to get on, then?" he asked, feeling annoyed. If she wasn't in such a hurry, then he and Sarah would have been able to…he didn't know what. Maybe kiss for a bit longer?

"I didn't want the paparazzi to see me," she replied. "I mean, there's a rogue operation that's after you, so you pretty much have a target painted on your back."

If the CIA and the NSA didn't interfere, then I wouldn't have that problem, he thought. But there was really nothing he could have done about that. Out of the hundreds of Starbucks coffee joints in L.A., Jill just _had_ to go to the same damn Starbucks that he and Sarah had gone to.

"But Sarah's been seen with me a bunch of times," he said, realizing that he had painted a target on Sarah's back as well. "Is she in danger?"

"Walker can take care of herself," said Carina, studying him with interest. "You really care for her, don't you? And not in that 'man, I want to get in that hot blonde's pants' kind of way? I'm pretty sure you do," she added quickly, "but it's more than that, isn't it?"

"I don't—I…" Chuck sputtered. The thought of getting into Sarah's pants was quite distracting. He had thought about it a couple of times, yes, but he was a man, and Sarah was extremely beautiful, and she was funny, and warm, and just…cool. That is, she was all of those things when she wasn't in her spy-mode, but she seemed to have struck a balance. "Of course I care about her! She and I have been friends since we were three!" His face was starting to get hot. Maybe he should have drunk water instead of scotch.

"There's no need to get so defensive, Chucky." Carina laughed. "It was a simple yes or no question."

Embarrassed, and just because it was something to do to distract her, he grabbed his laptop and placed it in his bag.

"So who did you write the novel to?" asked Carina, nodding to his laptop. "You were typing for the last forty minutes."

He zipped his bag and placed it on top of the table. "I was writing an email to Director Graham."

Carina frowned. "What for?"

"For Bryce, actually," he replied. "The current chief financial officer is kind of lazy. And since Director Graham now knows that I know that Bryce is ex-CIA, I wanted to ask him if it was okay if I give Bryce the CFO position."

"Oh," she spat, disgusted.

Gosh, she must really hate Bryce, he thought.

"Well, you just wasted your time," she said. "Graham's not going to let Bryce become the CFO."

When spies leave the agency, they're given new covers for their protection. Then they're given lower level jobs than they're qualified for to keep off the radar. Bryce had only been out of the CIA for just over a year. Chuck knew that it was a long shot for Graham to allow Bryce to get the CFO position, but he had to try. In Chuck's opinion, Bryce was the best candidate for the job.

"It doesn't hurt to try," said Chuck. "I just want what's best for the company, and Bryce is the perfect candidate for the job."

"Whatever you say, Chucky," she said airily. "But don't get your hopes up; Bryce will only let you down. He's just a selfish coward."

Chuck frowned. Bryce, despite his arrogance, was a good man. In the eight years of their friendship, Bryce had never let Chuck down. So to see the look of disdain on Carina's face, and to hear her calling his friend a coward, he felt that he needed to defend his friend.

He also needed to soften Carina up so that she'd make peace with Bryce. Now that Omega was starting to put people into large corporations like Roark Industries, there would be more Osiris missions. He needed to stop Wally before he would be able to cause major damage to Roark Industries. He also needed to find out what Wally's team was up to. Chuck needed Bryce to recruit Carina, and he needed Carina to trust Bryce again in order for that to happen.

"Why do you keep saying that he's a coward?" asked Chuck, watching as Carina walked over to the small bar. "Is it because he left the agency? Because that was totally not his fault."

She didn't look up from measuring the vodka, but she laughed humorlessly and peeked into the mini-fridge. "It's not because he left the agency." A loud clang rang throughout the cabin as Carina slammed the fridge shut. "Where the hell is the tonic water?" she asked. "Actually, why isn't anyone mixing my drink for me?"

"Because it was your job to hire them, and obviously, you didn't," he replied, getting up from his seat. He walked over to the bar, and held up the fountain dispenser, flicking the switch to tonic water. "And here's the tonic water," he said, handing her the hose.

"You never told me to hire any flight attendants." She filled her glass with the tonic water, dropped a few ice cubes, and garnished her drink with a wedge of lime.

"Marjorie, my old assistant, would always hire them for me without having to ask," he said, grabbing a bottle of water from behind the counter. "I guess I just got used to her and I forgot to ask you to hire them. That's my bad."

"That's right, it's your bad," she said playfully.

Before she made her way back to her seat, Chuck was able to catch a look of relief on her face, most likely due to her thinking that he had forgotten about the Bryce subject. Not caring whether she thought he was annoying (which she probably did) or not, he followed her back to her seat, determined to accomplish his new mission, Operation Soften Carina Up for Bryce, So He Could Recruit Carina with Ease.

"Anyway," he said, sitting across from her. "So why do you think Bryce is a coward?"

She let out an exasperated groan. "Chucky, just leave it alone."

"Nope," he said, shaking his head and grinning. "We've still got about…" he flicked a glance at his Big Brother watch that his handlers had given him, "three and a half hours left before we get to Virginia. That means that I have all that time to annoy you about it."

Taking a long sip of her vodka tonic, Carina squinted her eyes into a glare. He could tell that she was contemplating on whether it would be worth it to take a swing at him or not.

"I remember going to Connecticut to bring Bryce to LA so that he can start his physical therapy and what not," he said, deciding that it was better to distract her than giving her the time to come to the conclusion that his face was already covered in cuts in bruises, and it wouldn't hurt her to add a few more. "When I got there, he told me that I had just missed you and Sarah. I guess that was the last time you saw Bryce…"

He continued his story, watching her as she determinedly stared at her drink. That night was the first time Chuck had ever seen Bryce break down in tears. It must have been hard for him, finding out that he would never be able to walk again and that he would have to leave the only woman that he had ever loved behind in the span of two days.

"I've never seen the guy so lost," he said somberly. "He was always so confident, you know? And he just…lost everything…he lost you."

Still, Carina didn't say anything. Her hands were shaking, and she glowered at the glass of vodka tonic as if it had offended her in some way. Studying her closely, he could see that she was trying to keep her tears from falling.

"I'm pretty sure that you've figured out that spies get certain rights taken away from them once they become spies, right?" she asked softly, avoiding his eyes.

"Yeah."

"The one right we do have is to quit," she said. "It's a long, tough process, but the CIA does let agents that want to leave, leave. You know that because of Bryce. They give you a new identity, a countless number of psychological tests, and I'm pretty sure that once you do leave, they keep tabs on you to make sure you don't spill their secrets. I'm positive that when spies are issued their red tests, that's a spy's first assassination mission, most of their marks are ex-agents who may have accidentally let something slip."

That was probably why Casey had wanted to report Bryce when he had found out that he had told Chuck that he was a spy. Chuck silently sent thanks to Sarah for defending Bryce that day.

"So yeah," continued Carina, after she had downed her vodka tonic, "I was willing to go through all that for Bryce."

His mouth dropped in shock. Bryce had never told him that, had he? No, he hadn't. All he had said was that Graham had insisted that he and Carina sever ties. He never told him that Carina was willing to leave the agency to be with him. Maybe he didn't know.

"Did you ever tell him that you were willing to quit for him?"

She shook her head. "We promised each other that if anything happened, we would always be there for each other, though. After I killed that asshole who threw him out of the window, I went back to the hospital, ready to tell Bryce that that was my last mission."

She brought the empty glass to her mouth, but stopped when she realized it was empty. To give her something to do, Chuck unscrewed the cap off his water bottle and handed it to her. As she took a drink, he waited until she was ready to continue, although, he had an inkling about what she was going to say.

"He threw me and Sarah out," she spat bitterly. "Threw a big bitch fit. The nurses tried to get me to leave the room, I knocked a few of them out. Eventually, Bryce's handler had to knock me out with a cheap shot to the back of the head."

"But then, maybe Bryce didn't know that you were going to quit," he said hopefully. Bryce was probably just depressed, and he didn't want to see anyone, he considered silently. A realization hit him. Bryce was willing to speak to him when he had gone to visit.

Carina was a trained agent. One of the best, according to Bryce. It would be really beneficial for Chuck's team if Carina was with them. And if Bryce was going to use the excuse that he wanted to protect Carina, then Chuck was going to be pissed. Bryce had given him a hard time for wanting to protect Sarah at the loading docks, saying that she was a trained agent and she could handle herself. Carina was just as good as Sarah was. Granted, it would have been dangerous for her to be a part of the team if she had quit the CIA, but Chuck remembered that he had come up with wearing a mask to conceal his identity pretty quickly. He was sure that if Carina joined the team, she would have gotten a mask as well.

"He knew," she insisted sadly, grabbing her glass off the table, and making her way back to the mini-bar.

He sank back into his chair and gazed out the window. There was nothing really to see, just the dark sky and gray clouds. Why would Bryce throw Carina out of his room like that? It didn't make any sense. Chuck knew that Bryce cared for Carina, and even if she did quit the CIA, she didn't have to know about the team. If Bryce chose not to tell her, Chuck would have understood why. Maybe, if she had quit, Bryce wouldn't have been so depressed. Maybe he wouldn't have tried to…

Chuck's head sprang up. "He was going to kill himself!" he cried loudly, causing Carina to spill vodka on the counter.

"What?" she asked, looking dismayed.

One day, when his father was out, Chuck had gone to the Lair to check up on Bryce. When he had entered the house, no one was there. It was eerily quiet. It was so quiet that when he had gone down to the basement, he was able to hear the sound of a clip being loaded into a gun. It had echoed through the basement.

He never sprinted so quickly in his life. He got into the command center in time to tackle Bryce before he was able to turn the gun on himself.

"He lost everything," said Chuck, remembering what Bryce had told him. "Not just you, but he lost everything that made him, him. He loved being a spy. It made him feel like he was alive. It gave him purpose. He loved being with you, and going out on missions with you and Sarah. In the span of a few minutes, that was all taken away from him. He said he didn't have anything to live for." Chuck looked at Carina, whose face displayed a mixture of shock and pity. That was enough for him to come to the conclusion that Carina had never gotten over Bryce. "He didn't want you to quit, and give up your life, because his mind was set on killing himself."

She clutched onto the counter, breathing heavily, and looking as though she was trying to process everything he had just told her. "Is that…"she began in a raspy voice. She cleared her throat. "Is that true?"

"Yes."

"You were there when it was about to happen?"

"Yeah."

"Does he…is he okay now?"

"I think so. He's accepted it, I think. Made peace with it."

"That's good," she breathed, nodding to herself. "That's good."

They were silent. That was a day that Chuck would never forget. Had he gone down a millisecond later, Bryce would have certainly died that day. It was one of the most frightening days of his life, almost losing one of his best friends. It was also the first time anyone had punched him in the face.

"You talked him out of it?" Her voice was closer now, and he jumped back when he saw that she was sitting across from him again.

"Sort of," he replied. "I calmed him down. Later, I called Graham to tell him what happened, and he told me to take Bryce to see a therapist, Dr. Dreyfus."

"But you still stopped him."

"Yeah, I guess."

She reached over the table and placed her hand over his. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Just…thanks," she said, taking her hand back.

He nodded, understanding.

"You're a good person, Chuck, for being there for him," she said, a thin smile spreading across her face. "You really care about people." She paused to take another sip from her glass. The warm smile that she directed at Chuck while she put her drink down unnerved him. It was quite odd, seeing her smile so warmly. He was used to her playful, "I'm about to say something dirty," smile. "I understand what Walker sees in you now."

He sucked in a breath, causing a bit of spit to fly to the back of his throat. Holding a finger up, Chuck began to cough into his sleeve. "Wha—what?"

"You know those feelings you have for Walker; the feelings you try to hide? She feels the same way about you." Carina flashed her trademark, mischievous grin.

Chuck's face turned a deep shade of red.

"Anyway," she said cheerfully, "Bryce said that his penis still worked, right? That wasn't a dream?"

Chuck couldn't help it. He had to laugh. Carina Hansen wouldn't be Carina Hansen if she couldn't go an hour without making a deviant comment of some kind.

**October 3, 2007  
Magnolia Self Storage  
San Diego, CA  
9:52 PM PST**

Sarah unlocked the padlock of her storage unit, and bent down to pull the sliding door up. A loud, metallic clanking noise erupted, echoing down the empty lot of storage units. She picked her flashlight up from the ground, and flicked it on. As the small storage unit illuminated in the yellow light, she saw boxes stacked atop each other in five neat rows.

Lifting the top box from the middle row, Sarah placed it on the ground and began to shuffle through it. The box contained her soccer and volleyball trophies from the years of 1986 to 1993. There were a few team pictures, and she smiled as the memories began to gently weave through her mind. She was a star on the soccer field, and her overhand serve for volleyball was famous for knocking out an opposing team member's tooth. Her mother was always visible in the crowd, cheering her on with Chuck.

She folded the lid of the box shut, and reached for another. There was nothing worth noting in there, just some of her father's old clothes. The next three boxes she riffled through mostly contained some old clothes from her high school years. Finally, she found the box that she was looking for. She unfolded the lid, and found the photo album that she had made years ago.

After her mother died, Sarah's father didn't give her much time to pack. She wasn't able to retrieve the framed pictures that hung from the walls in their old home or the family photo albums. Five minutes was all the time her father had given her. She remembered pulling all of the pictures from the walls of her room and stowing them in a shoebox that contained even more pictures.

Wiping the thin layer of dust from the cover, she flipped through the pages. The first page contained a family portrait right after Sarah had had her first communion. The next few pages were pictures of her and her soccer teammates at their end of the season pizza party. She flipped through those pages quickly, unable to put a name on the other girls' faces. When she came across a picture of her mother hugging her when she was around nine years old, she paused. She remembered the warmth of her mother's embrace, and Sarah missed it.

She missed a lot of things about her mother. She also missed out on a lot of things without her mother.

Sighing, Sarah turned to the last page. It was a picture of her and Chuck on Halloween in the year 1991. Even when she was young, she wasn't all that creative. Sarah was dressed in a witch costume that she had bought from a costume store, even though her mother would always want to help her make her own costume. Chuck, on the other hand, he was always creative. He was wearing a bicycle helmet that he had spray-painted silver, and he had painted the top half of his face with silver face paint. He was wearing an aluminum garbage can, his arms sticking out the sides. Sarah remembered him saying that he was supposed to be Robocop that year.

Shutting the photo album shut, she reached back into the box, finally finding the two things that she had been looking for: a cassette tape and a folded note. On the front of the note, Chuck had scribbled:

_To: Sarah  
Love: Chuck_

He had given her the note on their last night in San Francisco, just before their first kiss. Sarah remembered how she had been crying in the elevator on the way back to her floor, clutching at the note, and too afraid to read what it would say. She didn't know what she was afraid of. She still didn't.

"Hello, Sarah," a voice called from behind her.

Sarah, startled, immediately grabbed a knife from her ankle holster, and turned. Her right arm was cocked back, ready to throw the knife at the intruder. Upon the sight of a woman, in her mid-fifties, with long, brown hair and hazel eyes, wearing a long, tan coat, Sarah's arm fell to her side. She couldn't believe her eyes.

"Mrs. Bartowski?"

Mary maintained her stoic expression, and nodded. "Yes, Sarah. It's me."

Questions suddenly filled Sarah's mind: How could she have left her beautiful, smart, and well-behaved children behind? Where did she go?

"What…what are you doing here?" She thought it was best to start off with a simple question.

Mary looked over to her right and nodded her head. A moment passed, and Sarah saw a large, hulking figure stop beside Mary, making her look minuscule.

"Wally?" she called out, getting up, still clutching onto her knife. "What the hell is going on?"

"We're here because we need you to do something for us," said Mary. "Something important."

"I'm a human resource rep for Legends, unless you want me to hire you, I don't think I can do anything to help," Sarah protested.

As the words came out of her mouth, she knew that there was no way that Mary and Wally were going to believe her. What kind of human resource representative carried throwing knives? She cursed herself for unsheathing the blade earlier. That was something that she had always had trouble with back when she was in training: attacking without fully assessing the situation.

Mary chuckled. "Sarah, we know that you're CIA, and we know why you're here in California. That's why we need you. You can help us."

She felt disoriented; like she had when she used to play soccer and someone would accidentally head butt her. Why was Mary with Wally? Two people from her past just showed up, and they seemed to know everything about her. It was unsettling. How did they know that she was CIA? What was going on?

"Who are you?" she demanded, trying to buy some time to figure a way out of this situation. If Wally was around sixty pounds lighter, she could have used him as a body shield. But he looked as though he weighed at least 265 pounds. Moving him would be nearly impossible.

"Why don't we talk about this somewhere else?" Mary said, eyeing the knife that Sarah was still clutching. "Somewhere public?"

"How about we talk about it here?" said Sarah coolly, sheathing her knife. "I won't hurt you." _Unless I have to_…

"That's not what I'm afraid of." Mary raised her hand and pointed it over her shoulder. Outside of the container, Sarah could see a man perched on top of the container opposite from hers, aiming his rifle at her. "What I'm afraid of is that you'll do something foolish, and get yourself killed."

Sarah glanced back out at the man with the rifle. It was too dark to determine what kind of rifle he had, but she guessed that it was most likely an automatic carbine. Maybe it was an M16 or an M4.

She dropped her knife. The container was too confined for her to dodge out of the line of fire. "Fine," she said with a huff. "Let's talk, Mrs. Bartowski."

**October 4, 2007  
Iron Jaw Motel  
Richmond, VA  
12:55 PM EST**

The rest of the flight was quite uneventful. After her second vodka tonic, Carina seemed to find it easier to fall asleep. While she was asleep, Chuck took the time to try to clear his mind. It was nearly impossible. With Carina asleep, and having nothing to distract him, he thought about Sarah. He wondered what she was doing. Maybe she was parked outside of what she thought was Fulcrum's headquarters, waiting for Osiris to make an appearance. There was a part of him that hoped she was thinking about him as much as he had been thinking about her.

After the plane had landed, Chuck and Carina got in a slight argument. He was annoyed that Carina hadn't reserved any hotel rooms, and she was annoyed because he never told her that she had to. He knew that it was his fault, but again, he was too used to how his former assistant always took care of those things for him without him having to ask her. Because it was the presidential campaign season, they weren't able to find any hotels that weren't fully booked.

Nearly all of the motels were booked as well, and the two of them had to settle for a small motel just outside of the city. He really didn't mind. The motel was quite nice, especially since he was expecting some cliché, creepy motel. He actually did find a roach motel in his bathroom, though.

Even though he hasn't gotten much sleep in the past couple of days, it was only 9:55 PM in California, so Chuck decided to shuffle through some of the coded mission notes that his father had left in his suitcase.

The hardest thing about this mission was that he couldn't be seen by any Fulcrum agents. If word got out that Osiris had stolen intel from Fulcrum's headquarters in Virginia at the same time Chuck was supposed to be at a meeting in Virginia, it would most likely mean that the CIA would be able to deduce that he was Osiris. At the very least, he'd be a suspect.

Chuck was reading about a new feature for his tranq pistols when there was an odd shuffling noise coming from the bathroom. He snapped his head to the left, and stared at the bathroom door. It was slightly open, but he was sure it had been like that when he got here. Shrugging, he decided that it was just his imagination. He began to turn back to his notes, when suddenly he was staring into a pair of the lightest blue eyes that he had ever seen.

"Hi, Chucky!"

"GOO!" he yelped in shock, falling backwards on his chair. His legs collided against the table, not only sending a wave of pain through his shins, but overturning it as well. The last six months of being Osiris had made him quite paranoid.

Carina held out her hand, looking satisfied, as if that was exactly the reaction she was expecting from Chuck. He saw that she was wearing a tight, purple tank top and some black boy shorts. He also noticed that she had _really_ long legs.

"Where the hell did you come from?" He stood up on his own, ignoring the outstretched hand.

"Snuck in through the bathroom window," she replied, smirking.

Dusting off his back, Chuck shot a confused glance at her. "Why couldn't you just knock?" He gestured to the front door. "Like a normal person?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Carina helped him put the table back on its legs. When she was done, she gathered up his notes for him. "What's all this?"

"They're notes for tomorrow's meeting," he lied, taking them from her. "So, uh, what are you doing here? Were you just bored, and you felt the need to scare someone, so you figured, 'Hey! I'll scare Chuck?'"

"Actually, I came by to borrow some toothpaste," she said, watching Chuck gathering the rest of the notes from the floor. "That's why I broke into the bathroom, but it wasn't there."

"Oh, right," he grumbled, putting his notes in order. "Again, I don't know how hard it would have been to knock."

"Oh, it's extremely difficult," she said, grinning.

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Toothpaste is in my suitcase," he said distractedly, gesturing over to the bed where the suitcase was. "Help yourself."

Carina nodded and walked over to Chuck's suitcase, while he began to shove the stack of papers into a manila envelope. He sighed. The mission tomorrow was going to be his toughest yet, and he wasn't even sure if he would be able to attain the intel. The laptop that his father had designed was large, bulky, and fairly heavy, weighing in at around nine pounds. He had a bad luck streak going on lately, and his confidence was beginning to wane.

At least Jill had made him new armor. If he got shot at tomorrow, he wouldn't have to worry too much about the bullets piercing through it.

Oh, shit, he realized. The armor was in the suitcase! The same suitcase that Carina was about to go digging through to look for a tube of toothpaste.

"Carina, wait!" he cried, turning around.

It was too late. She was already kneeling in front of his suitcase, holding his mask in her hand, with a look of confusion on her face. Chuck could literally hear the gears in her head turning, and then everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She dropped the mask back into the bag, and reached a hand to her waistband for a knife. Chuck flashed, and instinctively, he threw the thick envelope filled with mission notes into the air, and dove forward into a front somersault.

As Carina's knife tore right through the envelope, and into the wall, Chuck stood up so that he was face to face with Carina.

He held up both of his hands. "I can explain," he tried to say, but he ducked underneath Carina's left arm, swinging a blade at his head. She thrust the knife downward, and he rolled to the right next to the bedside table. He grabbed the phonebook off the table, and held it in front of him as Carina tried to thrust the knife into his chest. The end of the knife poked through the book, and Chuck twisted his arms counter-clockwise to disarm her. He threw the book and knife aside and quickly caught Carina's right wrist from a right hook.

She attempted a wide, left hook, and he ducked underneath. She had put all her weight into the punch. The momentum caused her to spin around, so Chuck reached from behind her to grab her left wrist, and he pulled her into him. Carina's back was against his chest, her arms crossed around her neck. He loosened her arms a bit to keep from choking her. That enabled her to twist around. His back was now against her, and she began to pull his arms toward her, choking him.

A hot woman in her underwear was chocking me, he realized. This was not as fun as most guys would think. It was actually quite frightening, seeing as he could never hit a woman. Ellie would skin him alive if he did, even if a woman was choking him to death. She told him that since he spent so many hours at the gym, then he should be able to overpower a woman without actually hurting.

With all the strength he had, Chuck bent his torso forward. He felt Carina flipping over his back, into the wall. She somehow kicked off the wall into a flip, but Chuck maintained his grip on her wrists. They were now facing each other, their arms twisted, and breathing heavily. Carina was glaring fiercely at him, her red hair disheveled. It was quite the scary sight. There was a deep hatred in her eyes, and the disheveled, red hair made it look like there were the flames of Hell behind her. Chuck could also see hurt and betrayal in her eyes. She had trusted him enough to open up to him earlier, and the whole time, he was the one that she and her partners were supposed to be searching for.

"Carina," he gasped, trying to catch his breath, "I can explain—"

"You're Osiris!" she spat angrily.

"Yes, I'm Osiris, but listen…" he trailed off as Carina's eyes flicked briefly to his groin. He reacted in time. He blocked Carina's kick with his knee. It was painful, but had her kick actually landed on its intended target, that would have been a hundred times more painful. She attempted another kick, and he blocked it with his knee again. "Carina, stop!" he yelled, frustration in his voice.

With surprising strength, she pulled her arms back, causing him to stumble forward. The next thing he felt was pain. A lot of pain. Carina had bit through his shirt and onto his nipple. He let out a howl. It was just excruciating. Having been in a frat during his college years, Chuck had been on the receiving end of many Purple Nurples. But this was something else. It was like a thousand pounds of force, clenching down on him. Bryce had always told him that Carina fought dirty, but he never thought she would fight this dirty!

"Oh my—_fuck_!" he cried, tears of pain welling in his eyes. He shoved her back into the wall, and he fell down on one knee. His hands clutched at the pain on his chest.

Carina leapt on his back, and put him in a sleeper hold. Her long legs wrapped tightly around his torso, not allowing any air to escape or enter his lungs. There was a part of his mind that thought this wouldn't be such a bad way to die—getting choked to death by a beautiful woman that was straddling his back. He couldn't help it. He was a guy, after all. But then, he remembered Sarah and that kiss. God, he wanted to live to see Sarah again.

As everything around him began to darken, he lifted himself and Carina off the ground and plopped down backwards onto the bed. Without taking the time to suck in a breath of air, he pinned Carina's arms down with his knees. She was squirming, kicking, and snarling profanities at him, but he ignored her.

"Carina, please, calm down!" he pleaded.

"Go to hell!"

That was a little harsh, he thought. It wasn't like he had done anything to her personally. "Give me five minutes to explain myself. If you don't like what I have to say, you can arrest me, or kill me, or whatever," he bluffed, silently hoping that he could convince Carina that he wasn't a bad person. "I'm going to get off you as long as you promise to be cool."

As Carina contemplated, he stared down at her arms. They were a deep shade of red. He felt bad about cutting off her circulation, but he was too afraid to shift his weight. The last time that happened, Carina had choked him with his own arms.

"I'll get off you," he repeated, glancing over at the phonebook with a knife lodged in it. "And I'll give you your knives back. You'll have all the power. Just let me explain why I've been stealing information."

"Fine," she spat, after what seemed like hours. "Get off me."

He slid back, off the bed, and held his hands out in front of him. "You cool?"

Carina rolled off the bed, and walked toward the phonebook, rubbing her arms in an attempt to get her circulation back. "Just talk, asshole." She pulled the knife out from the book, and plopped down on the ground in exhaustion.

Ignoring the sting from her remark, Chuck leaned heavily against a wall. His nipples were killing him. "Okay," he said, taking in a deep breath. "What I'm about to tell you is above top secret. Not even the President knows any of this. At least, I don't think he does." He looked up thoughtfully before shaking his head. There were more important things to talk about. "Anyway, just…don't tell your bosses. Please."

For a long moment, Carina looked skeptically at him. Chuck held his breath, studying her. When she finally nodded, he began to explain to her about Omega's motives. About Bryce, and how he downloaded the original Intersect. He explained how it used to be easier to obtain intel when Bryce was in the CIA and Jill was in Fulcrum. He told her that they had to get intel from the CIA, the NSA, Fulcrum, and the Ring so that they could figure out who Omega had in those organizations.

Memories of the night when Bryce and Stephen had told Chuck everything came back. Only, in this situation, Carina was Chuck. However, Chuck was sure that he had an extremely dumbfounded, confused look on his face. Carina listened intently to his every word. Her eyes flicked quickly as she read the information on his father's laptop. The computer had some solid information about Omega, so that helped a lot.

Chuck left out the part about Orion being his father. Bryce trusted Carina, so Chuck trusted her as well, but he had to be safe. There was a chance that she was just playing along, and once his guard was down, she'd arrest him, Bryce, and Jill. At the least, his father would still be around to fight Omega.

"Daniel Shaw," she said, placing the laptop down on the ground in front of her. Relief washed over Chuck when he saw her sheathing her knife. "He was Omega?"

"He was one of their moles inside the Ring," he replied. "But yeah, he was Omega."

"Omega's the reason why he's paralyzed," Carina said to herself.

She looked lost in thought, processing everything that she had just heard and seen. Chuck waited. If he was being honest, he had no idea what he should say or do next. Should he just straight up invite Carina to join the team, or should he just wait, and let her fully take everything in?

"You said that you have a mission tomorrow?" she asked, looking up at him. "To get Fulcrum's intel?"

Chuck nodded.

Carina grinned as though she was a child who had hit the mother-load of candy on Halloween. "Looks like I'm going to need a geeky call-sign, huh?"

Waiting was a good idea indeed. However, Chuck was not entirely kosher on the idea of having another person out in the field with him. The main reason he had even volunteered himself for his father's team, apart from wanting to save the world from an insane, apocalyptic, war, was because he didn't want others to end up like Bryce or worse. On the other hand, having Carina willingly join the team was a relief. He couldn't come up with any more ideas on how to avoid his handlers, _and_ she was an experienced CIA agent. It would be nice to have one of those to help him out.

"You want on the team?" he asked, studying her closely to be absolutely positive that she genuinely wanted to be a part of this.

Her grin faded. "Yeah, I want to help you." Her face hardened. "Everything that you said—everything that you showed me—" She gestured to the laptop. "I can't just sit idly by, knowing all of that is going on. I want to help."

Giving her a half-smile, he nodded.

"Anyway, I'm going to need a geeky call-sign."

"It doesn't have to be _geeky_," said Chuck, rolling his eyes. Was Osiris a geeky name? Personally, he thought it sounded cool, mysterious. "And you can come up with your own call-sign."

Carina pursed her lips together, and scowled in deep concentration. Chuck just sat back and watched her. After a few silent seconds had gone by, she looked up in hesitation. "Honestly, the only things that are coming to mind are really stupid."

"I'm sure they're not stupid," he said kindly.

She let out a puff of air. "Yeah, they are. I'm not a creative person. That is, I can get creative when it comes to…you know—" her eyes flicked over to the bed, and Chuck understood, "and when I'm out in the field. But when it comes to things like this? Yeah, I just can't do it."

"Well, just tell me what you were thinking, then," said Chuck.

Carina hesitated briefly, before inhaling a deep breath. "Okay, I got…Big Red, Strawberry Shortcake, and Red Velvet."

Chuck stifled his laughter. "Uh…yeah, they're not stupid. But, er…are you hungry perchance?"

"I actually am," she said, absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. "And I also like my hair." Carina's hand left her flat stomach, and flicked a strand of her red hair. "Even a prude like you should be able to admit it, but I'm hot for a redhead."

"I'm not a prude!" For some reason, he felt self-conscious, and he couldn't fathom why. "Anyway—" Chuck shook his head, "yes, you're a very pretty, young woman. But no offense, calling yourself Red Velvet isn't really going to sound very intimidating to Omega. Well, it might if they were diabetic, but…"

She looked taken aback for a second, before she retorted, "Oh, and how is Osiris intimidating?"

"Osiris passes judgment. In a way, I do the same thing."

"Oh yeah?" Carina scoffed. "How's that?"

"You know how I basically have a computer in my head?" Carina nodded. "If I see an Omega agent, I flash on them, and I pretty much pass judgment, you know?"

"Clever," she mused, not looking impressed.

"Well, I think it is," he said, examining Carina. Suddenly, inspiration struck him. "Do you know who Pamela Isley is?"

"Nope."

He stood and walked over to his suitcase where his work laptop bag was laying. "I think your call-sign should be Eisley," he said, booting up his computer.

"Why? And who the hell is Pamela Isley?" Carina stepped beside Chuck and watched him as he opened up his web browser.

He tilted his laptop so that she could see. "That," he said, pointing to the screen with his free hand, "is Pamela Isley, aka, Poison Ivy; which I think is a pretty lame name, but whatever."

"The chick from _Pulp Fiction_?" asked Carina, frowning at the JPEG of Uma Thurman as Poison Ivy from Chuck's most hated superhero film adaptation, _Batman & Robin_.

"No, her character," he replied, setting his laptop on top of the bed. Chuck clapped his hands together. "So Pamela Isley is a hot and deadly redhead—sort of like you."

"Hot and deadly, eh?" Carina focused on the picture with more interest. "What does she do?"

"She's a villain, but that doesn't really matter," explained Chuck. "She's pretty much a man-eater." Upon hearing the words, Carina grinned gleefully. "You know, she seduces them, sometimes for the hell of it, other times to get things she wants. When she's done, she kisses them. But get this," he said dramatically, "her lips are filled with venom, right? So every time she kisses someone, they _die_."

She glanced up at Chuck, looking exhilarated. "You said you had a chemist on your team?"

"She's a bio-chemical engineer," he replied. Carina was about to say something, but Chuck interrupted, already knowing what she was going to say. "And I really doubt that Jill can make you a poisonous lipstick."

"Damn it," she sighed, looking disappointed.

"And besides, why would you want to kill someone by kissing them?" he asked, letting out a laugh. "You can get mono that way. But anyway, so what do you think of Eisley? With an E?"

"Why is there an E?"

Chuck shrugged. "So DC Comics doesn't sue us if we go public," he joked.

Carina chuckled. "Fine. Eisley it is then."

"Yeah?"

She nodded, and grinned coyly. "So about that mission of yours tomorrow—you're going to need my help if you want to go undetected."

"That would be great, but you don't have a mask," said Chuck, running a hand through his hair. "If Fulcrum knows that you're helping me, it's only a matter of time before your bosses find out."

"Oh, stop it, Chuck," she said, rolling her eyes. "I've planned this whole mission out from the moment you told me about it."

**October 3, 2007  
Wade's Diner  
San Diego, CA  
10:20 PM PST**

When she and Chuck were younger, they used to watch a cartoon program on television. In each episode, they would animate an old children's tale. Sarah remembered watching an episode about the ugly duckling that turned into a beautiful swan. What that episode didn't show, or tell, was that the beautiful swan most likely still suffered from low self-esteem.

So as Sarah looked upon Wally, wolfing down a gigantic plate of scrambled eggs with eight slices of bacon, she thought back to when she used to be the ugly duckling during high school that had been made over by the CIA into a presumably beautiful swan. After a three hour long tutorial on how to apply makeup properly, they, the agency, sent her to Harvard. The first six months there were some of the most awkward months of her life. Every time a boy gave her a second glance, she immediately felt uncomfortable. Then, Wally came along. Perhaps he had sensed that Sarah wasn't aware of her beauty back then, but he had confidently asked her out on a date. And now, Sarah despised herself for being so vulnerable.

Sarah shuddered as a torrent of memories overcame her. Wally, simply put, was a jerk. He constantly cheated on her, but she was a coward back then. She just couldn't confront or put an end to that relationship. Not only did he cheat on her, but he had treated her as though she were an object. That, along with her training, made Sarah truly believe that she was indeed an object. College just wasn't a happy time for her.

She turned her attention to Mary, only because seeing the muscles in Wally's neck and jaw tense as he chewed his food made her want to vomit. Mary hadn't said a word since she suggested that they go somewhere public to talk. This whole situation was uncomfortable. Usually, in cases like these, where Sarah hadn't a clue as to what was going on, she would punch or kick first, and ask questions later. Although she didn't know what his motives were, Sarah wanted to knock Wally out—just because he represented a past that she wasn't too proud of.

However, there was no way she could knock Mary out. There was just too much history there. And she was curious as to why Mary needed her.

The diner that they were at was a small truck stop. Apart from her, Mary, and Wally, there were six other men sitting in their own booths, eating their food quietly.

Finally, Mary handed her a folder. "Osiris," she said. "We need you to bring him to us."

Sarah opened the folder and saw a CCTV still of Osiris carrying her temporarily paralyzed body from the loading docks. Placing the folder on the table, she tapped the picture of Osiris. "Why would I want to bring him to you? When I catch Osiris, he'll belong to the CIA."

Mary and Wally exchanged looks. The older woman had an expression of great remorse etched on her face, while the large man's squinty, blue eyes glinted with glee. He reached his hand into his jean pockets, and tossed a folded wad of paper at Sarah, and he topped it off with a grin that made her want to punch his face.

Glowering at the gigantic mongrel, Sarah unfolded the wad of paper and saw a photograph of her and Chuck at the Santa Monica Pier, holding hands and looking content. Confused, she glanced over to Mary, but Mary was just staring down at the table in distress.

"If you don't bring in Osiris," said Wally, his mouth still full of eggs and bacon, "we'll kill your boyfriend."

It took a great amount of restraint for her to not jump across the table and strangle Wally. Instead, with all the strength she possessed, she kept her face emotionless. "That's it?" she bluffed. "Bartowski's just an asset." She turned to Mary and glared. "How could you let these people threaten your _son's_ life? What kind of person are you?"

Mary's eyes shot up from the table and burned into Sarah's. "Everything that I've done in the past seventeen years was done to ensure my family's safety," she spat so icily that shivers ran up the back of Sarah's neck. "You're the one that came here and put my son's life in danger by compromising yourself in public."

"Compromising myself?" she asked rhetorically. With much trepidation, Sarah fought to keep calm. "It's a cover relationship. It's fake. Chuck's an important public figure. This—" she gestured to the photograph of her and Chuck holding hands, "was done so that we could sell our relationship. You're all wasting your time with threatening an innocent man who's only a low-level asset."

"Chuck isn't just an asset to you, though," said Mary. "Look at the other pictures."

"I assure you, Chuck is nothing more to me than an asset," she insisted. Usually, she never had a problem with lying, but this was just excruciatingly difficult—having to lie about Chuck. But if she wanted to save his life, then she would have to keep lying. No matter how hard it was.

"Just look at the pictures, Sarah." The older woman reached over the table and spread the photographs in front of Sarah.

When she looked down, she saw another photo of her and Chuck outside of Club Aries. This time, she was grinning up at him like a love-struck teenager. He was smiling affectionately, with an arm wrapped around her. Apart from Casey in the background with his mouth open, undoubtedly yelling at the paparazzi to get out of his way, she and Chuck looked like a normal, happy couple in love. If this were any other situation, she would be in front of her computer, photoshopping Casey out of the background so that she could frame the picture.

Wally let out a chuckle that deeply irritated her. "Look at you," he jeered, "lookin' like a bitch in heat. Shit…" he leaned back in the booth, and held his gargantuan arms out to the side, "if you want a good fuck, you're looking right at him."

Impulsively, Sarah began to grab for the napkin dispenser off the table with the intention of slamming it against Wally's overly large face. But before she could even reach it, Mary slammed her empty coffee mug into his face.

There was an explosion of porcelain; the pieces chattered as they hit the linoleum floor. Wally, whose face was twisted in anguish, clutched at his face. Meanwhile, Sarah watched in disbelief. Holy shit, she thought, did that just happen? Did Mary Bartowski really just slam a coffee mug into a man who looked like he could be a cage fighter?

Six of the diner's patrons shot up to their feet, with their guns drawn. They were all aiming their pistols at her, causing her to hold her hands up in innocence. Sarah figured that they were working with Mary.

"Don't you _ever_ talk to a woman like that," Mary snarled, grabbing a handful of Wally's short hair. She yanked his head roughly, pulling his head back with one hand, while the other held a piece of broken porcelain to his throat. What Sarah saw was a bloody mess. "Do you understand me, Johnson?" When he didn't answer right away, Mary slammed his face against the table. The table shook violently from the impact. "I _said_, 'Do you understand me?'"

"Yes, ma'am," Wally groaned weakly, "I understand."

"Good," said Mary, releasing his hair. She turned to the other agents. "Berkowitz, take Johnson to the clinic." A young, red-haired man rushed over, and helped Wally out of the booth. "Jenkins, tell the nice owners of this place that we're here on official CIA business, and we apologize for the inconvenience. The rest of you, go back to whatever the hell you were doing before."

Sarah was still taking in what had just happened. She would never have guessed that Mary was capable of such violence. However, Mary looked tiredly at her as though nothing had happened.

"Let's get back to the main topic, shall we?" Mary suggested, pulling a napkin from the dispenser, and wiping off her hands.

"Who are you people?" Sarah asked, glancing around the small diner at the operatives. "Are you Ring? Fulcrum?"

"We're everyone," Mary replied, tossing the napkin aside. "It's safer for you not to know exactly who we are."

She huffed out a breath of air in frustration.

"I will say this, we have people everywhere," the older woman continued. "The CIA, NSA, FBI, Secret Service, Fulcrum, the Ring…any agency that you could imagine. We've been around for a long time, and we have worked very, _very_ hard to go unnoticed."

"If what you're saying is true, then what's to stop me from letting my bosses know about you?"

"Well, Johnson was supposed to make this threat, but…" Mary rolled her eyes. "They'll kill Chuck if you do. If my people even suspect that the CIA is onto us, they'll kill Chuck. They'll also kill him if you don't bring Osiris to us by December."

Sarah gulped and cleared her throat. It was very unsettling to hear Chuck's own mother say that her people will kill her only son if Sarah doesn't cooperate.

"Mary, why are you letting this happen?" she asked, her face falling in disappointment.

"I don't have a choice, Sarah," Mary replied sadly, with a look of remorse on her face. "The only reason I'm with them is because they threatened to kill my family if I didn't join. It was the hardest day of my life, leaving my family."

Sarah shut her eyes slowly and remembered how Mary would be gone for long periods of time before she left for good. "You used to be a spy," she stated. "For who?"

Mary nodded slowly. "The CIA. And now, the people that I work for are threatening to murder my son unless you accept this mission and find Osiris. Chuck's the only bargaining chip they have against you. I've protested, but our leader wouldn't listen. He believes that you'll be the one that will be able to bring in Osiris."

"Why?" Out of all the people that were out there, looking for Osiris, why was she being singled out? Sarah knew she was one of the best, but why couldn't they use someone else? Someone that these people already had in their organization?

"We saw the surveillance footage from the loading docks," Mary replied. "Osiris went out of his way to protect you. That's how we operate, Sarah. We use peoples' emotions against them, and for some reason, Osiris seems to have an emotional connection to you."

Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable. There was a masked psycho out there that had a crush on her? That was unnerving. "Your boss wants me to seduce him, then?" Sarah asked, repressing a humorless laugh.

"No," replied Mary. "Osiris won't fight back against you. He'll probably dodge and block your hits, but he won't fight back."

"When I saw him, he pinched nerves along my back and paralyzed me."

"According to the footage that we saw, it looked like he didn't have any other choice. Besides, he took the time to step in front of a bullet for you."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief. "Who knows if Osiris is still in California? He's been spotted in Houston, DC, Boston…he could be anywhere right now."

"Your new base, Castle, I believe it's called, contains some new information that he'll want to steal. It's a safe bet that he's in the planning process of trying to break in."

"Okay, well, what if Osiris doesn't break into Castle?" Sarah asked. "What if he lies low and he doesn't come out until after December? What happens to Chuck?"

Mary only responded with another regretful look. It said it all: if she didn't get Osiris by December, then they'd kill Chuck. Damn bastards.

"Mary," said Sarah softly, leaning forward. "I can take Chuck when he comes back, and we can run."

"They're already expecting that," Mary sighed. "You can't run. Not from us. We have resources from every branch of the government. If running was a choice, then I would have taken my family and left."

Her hands wrapped around the back of her head, and Sarah leaned her head down. Guilt flowed through her veins, into her heart. It felt like the oxygen in her lungs had been replaced by concrete. This was all her fault. The pictures lying on the table showed her beaming lovingly up at Chuck. Even a blind person would be able to see how she felt about him. She should have known better—her training taught her better—than to have expressed her emotions like that. Now, because of her emotions, these people were threatening Chuck's life. The worst of it was that Sarah didn't know if she _could_ catch Osiris.

"Sarah, as long as you bring him in, Chuck will be safe," said Mary, reaching a hand out to Sarah, but hesitating. She placed her hand back on the tabletop, and gave Sarah a small, reassuring smile. "I know what you're thinking, and this…situation…" Mary let out a huff of air. "It isn't your fault."

Sarah ignored her. Of course this was her fault. She'd compromised herself—her feelings. Because of that, Chuck's life was being threatened.

"Chuck's a good man," said Mary. There was too much understanding in her eyes for Sarah's comfort, so she turned away. "And you two, well…" she dragged off and smiled wistfully. "I've never seen two children that cared for each other as much as you and Chuck did. Even though you two were forced to separate at a young age, it doesn't change the fact that you guys have been through a lot together—a lot more than most children have when they were your age."

Again, Mary reached her hand across the table, but this time, she didn't hesitate. Nor did she pull it away. She rested it on top of Sarah's hand, and gave it a squeeze. Oddly, Sarah felt comforted by the gesture. It was almost motherly. She felt a tug when she saw the pained look on Mary's face. Her face appeared to be much older, as though it had suddenly aged ten years. That was when Sarah realized just how hard it must have been for her to leave her family behind—unable to see her children grow up, not being able to comfort them when they were scared, and watching them from afar as they took care of each other.

"It's not your fault," Mary repeated. "You're only human. Your training tried to chisel your emotions away. But no matter how hard they drill, how much they yell at you, there's always going to be someone or something that reminds you that you are, in fact, human."

Minutes passed, and Sarah didn't say a word. She knew that Mary was right to a certain extent. At the same time, Sarah felt angry with herself. She was here to protect Chuck, not to put him in further danger. She felt angry with Beckman and Graham. They just _had_ to make her be in a cover relationship with Chuck. Yes, Chuck needed around the clock observation, but was it absolutely necessary for them to make her and Chuck's cover be boyfriend and girlfriend?

"My bosses," said Sarah, "are they working for you?"

"Beckman is, yes," Mary replied.

"This was the plan all along?"

The older woman nodded. "You, Hansen, and Casey are the best agents that she has. You all have something in common: leverage. Hansen has Larkin—"

"You know about Bryce?"

"Not much slips past us," said Mary. "John Casey has Alex McHugh—his eighteen year old daughter." That one was totally out of left field, Sarah thought. "But you, you were the wildcard."

Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"Beckman told us that you had run into Chuck, and reported Jill Roberts as Fulcrum," Mary replied to Sarah's silent question. "You let it slip that you and Chuck had a past."

"_Fuck_ me!" she brushed her hair back with her hand in frustration. How could she have made so many mistakes? "Okay, so Beckman's with you guys. Why would you need to blackmail any members of my team?"

"Because Graham isn't with us, we need to keep Osiris's capture silent so he doesn't suspect anything. The original plan was to threaten Casey, and we wanted him to bring Osiris in. Beckman could have vouched for him. You ran into Roberts and reported her, so Graham insisted on bringing Hansen in to assist you and Major Casey as Chuck's handlers."

"And you chose me, because…?"

"Because you're the best out of the three of them," Mary finished. "And we, they, discovered your feelings for Chuck." She gestured to the pictures.

Sarah looked down at the pictures again, and gazed down at Chuck. He was grinning affectionately at her. "I'll do it. I'll bring Osiris to you under one condition."

"What's that?"

"After I bring Osiris in, you leave Chuck alone. If any of you hurts one hair on his head, I swear to God, I will kill every last one of you."

The dark haired woman smiled, and slid out of the booth. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Sarah."

**October 4, 2007  
CIA Substation  
Richmond, VA  
9:31 PM EST**

Chuck stepped into the small, modest office, carrying his messenger bag, followed by Carina and two other agents. According to the redhead, the agents were fresh off the Farm—rookies. Carina and he had spent a good five hours planning the night before. Again, he was going on less than three hours of sleep. In fact, for this entire week, he guessed he only had about thirteen hours of sleep. He was exhausted, yet, with Carina on his team, he felt exhilarated all the same.

Carina turned to the young, eager looking men. "Okay, you two stand guard outside the office," she ordered in a serious tone that seemed unlike her. "Leave Mr. Bartowski alone. If he needs you, he'll call for you. Under no circumstances are you to speak to him unless he speaks to you first. Understood?"

The agents nodded.

"Good," she said. It looked as though she were waiting for something, and when nothing happened, she barked impatiently, "Now, get out."

As the young agents scrambled away, Chuck gave them a half-hearted wave. "Thank you!" he called to the rookies, while grinning at Carina.

She chuckled and sighed. "Ah…I totally get off on this shit," she said happily.

"What?"

"Yelling at rookies," she explained. "They literally do whatever you tell them to do. Like, after Bryce's accident, I needed to take out my sexual—"

"Cool!" he interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest of the story. "So what time should I expect you back?"

"It shouldn't take more than two hours," she replied, winking. "But this is my old office, so I'm pretty sure if you snoop around, you'll see something you like." With that, her eyes flicked over to the corner of the room, where Chuck could see a faint outline of a trapdoor. "And I had the rookies stock up the mini-fridge in case you get hungry."

"How thoughtful of you." Placing the bag on the desk, he pulled out what looked like a digital metronome for his watch's heart rate monitor, and began to unscrew the face off of his Big Brother watch. Carina waited until Chuck gave her a wink to let her know that everything was a go.

"Right, well, I'm gonna go do my thing," she said, once he had hidden the watch from view.

"Good luck."

She nodded, and headed toward the door. Before she turned the knob, she gave him another knowing look to which he responded with a nod. Once she left the office, and the door was locked, Chuck pulled his mask, his tranq pistols, a Bluetooth device, and laptop out of the bag. He walked behind the desk and pulled open a large drawer. Inside, a dark grey suit jacket and a black, wool peacoat were neatly folded just as Carina had promised. He took out the suit jacket, and put it on. After that, he strapped the laptop to his back, and pulled on the spring loaded arm holsters for his pistols.

While he walked over to the trapdoor, he buttoned up the peacoat, and pulled on his mask. Carina had told him earlier that she had activated the trapdoor so that it would open for him, but as he reached down to the edge of the chute, he held his breath. He didn't know why, but for some reason, he thought that Carina would have forgotten to unlock the trapdoor. When it opened with ease, he uttered a soft apology for having doubted her. Maybe she used an airy, careless attitude so that people would underestimate her, he figured.

Chuck climbed down the ladder as quickly as he could. He only had five minutes to climb down ten stories, and harness himself underneath a SWAT van. This was his second mission in less than thirty-six hours. As he descended down the ladder, his shoulder muscles began to protest. Usually, he would have a couple of weeks to rest after his missions, so this was his first back to back assignment.

After about two minutes, he finally reached the bottom of the ladder. Carina had told him that the hidden door would lead him straight outside, and his only cover would be a few, short bushes. He knelt down and pushed open the door in front of him. The bushes outside were roughly two feet tall, so Chuck cautiously crawled forward to where Carina had left the harness and a small motor that was no bigger than a cell phone.

As Chuck peeked out of the bushes, he pocketed the motor and picked up the harness. To his relief, there was no one outside. The SWAT van was fifteen feet in front of him. Inhaling a deep breath to calm his nerves, he sprinted out from the bushes toward the van. His steps slowed when he approached the van, and he fell forward to crawl underneath the van.

While he was looping the harness through the motor, Chuck heard heavy footsteps approaching the van. Bringing his hand up to his right ear, he whispered, "Tie your shoe. I need another minute."

"Hold up," he heard Carina's voice echoing in his ear. When he was able to see her kneeling down to lace up her boots, he moved quickly. Hooking the four ends of the harness to each side of the van, he then hooked the motor to his belt, and was lifted up, stomach first, against the vehicle. It was extremely uncomfortable.

"Okay."

At that, he could see her straightening up. A few seconds later, he heard the doors slam, and the engine rev. The van moved forward, and he shut his eyes as tightly as possible.

For the next twenty minutes, he clutched onto the van as tightly as his hands were able. With every turn, he would let out a surprised gasp. At every bump, he would let out a terrified groan. It was possibly the most horrifying twenty minutes of his life, and he wished that he had suggested Carina take her own car so that he could lie down in the trunk.

The van finally stopped, and Chuck wanted to cry out in glee. He repressed the urge, however, since he might surprise his partner and cause her to appear strange to her tactical support team. He could hear the door swinging open, and he watched as fifteen pairs of boots hit the concrete, sprinting toward their target—the Prewitt Building, aka, Fulcrum's HQ.

Just as she was a straight-forward person in real life situations, apparently, Carina was also straight-forward when it came to operations. As Chuck lowered himself to the ground, he could hear the glass doors shattering as her team charged straight through the door and into the building. He unhooked the motor from his belt, and waited for Carina's signal.

From underneath the van, he saw bright lights from gunshots flashing inside the building.

"Go, Ozzy," said Carina.

"Are you referring to me?" he asked in a deep voice, feeling confused. The second the mask came on, he couldn't help but talk in his Christian Bale's Batman voice. It had started out as a joke to cheer Bryce up, but it just stuck around.

Carina let out a sigh. "_Yes_! Go, go, go!"

"Okay, jeez," he grumbled, crawling from beneath the van. He stood up, and sprinted toward the building, running past the front entrance to the emergency fire door on the side. Flicking his right wrist, he caught his pistol as it sprang out, and unhooked it from the holster. He pointed the weapon down as he slowly, and cautiously, pulled open the door.

The pistol aimed in front of him, Chuck ignored the chorus of gunfire, and gave the hallway a quick sweep. There weren't any agents, CIA or Fulcrum. Letting out a sigh of relief, he turned right and began to jog silently down the hall. At the end, to his left, there was a spiraling staircase that led down to the basement.

He descended down the steps. When he reached the bottom, there were four Fulcrum operatives. All of them had their Sig Sauer P226's drawn out in front of them. Chuck aimed his pistol at one of them, and fired a dart. The dark haired man fell to the ground as soon as the dart hit him. He aimed at the man behind the fallen operative, and fired another dart. By the time the second man fell, the other two operatives began to open fire.

Chuck turned and ran back up the steps, narrowly avoiding the shots. The two remaining operatives gave pursuit. At the first turn, Chuck grabbed onto the railing, and kneeled behind it. He flicked the new safety on his gun all the way back to activate the new feature on his tranq pistols: a 0.51 mm syringe needle poked out of the bottom of the gun beside the magazine. Throwing his pistol up in the air, he caught it by the barrel just as one of the Fulcrum operatives came up behind him. With a sideways, hammer-like motion, the butt of the gun collided against the operative's neck, causing him to fall back, unconscious. The man's partner aimed his pistol at Chuck's head. Chuck reached out, grabbed the man's wrist, and brought down the butt of his gun to the man's arm. Just like his partner before him, the man fell, unconscious.

Pushing back the urge to pat himself on the back for not needing to flash to take out the operatives, he descended down the flight of stairs once more.

"Clear," he said into his earpiece. "Are you in position?"

"Yeah, about damn time," she said teasingly. Although Carina was out of sight, Chuck imagined her hand on a hand grenade. To make sure the CIA wouldn't find it suspicious that there were knocked out security guards with no sign of trauma, they had planned for Carina to throw a grenade down. "Pulling of the pin, now. You better make sure you're out of range."

Chuck took a couple of steps back, and roughly four seconds later, the ground shook as the grenade detonated in midflight. Pieces of plaster and bricks showered down, making it seem like the operatives were knocked out from the blast. When the men regained consciousness, they wouldn't remember any of these events unfolding, thanks to Jill's twilight tranqs.

"You okay?" asked Carina.

"Yeah," he replied, placing his hand on the doorknob to where Fulcrum kept their database. "I'm going in."

"I'll be down there in five. You think that's enough time?"

He shook his head, and realized that she wouldn't be able to see him. God, he couldn't wait to get some sleep. "I don't know. You think you can come down alone just in case?"

"I'll come up with something. Move fast, Ozzy."

Again with the Ozzy, he thought inwardly. Oh, it's short for Osiris. I see what she did there.

Flicking the safety switch off, he held his pistol at the ready. If he was right, there would be at least five guards inside the room to protect the database. He cleared his mind and flashed. When it cleared, the exhaustion went with it. Aside from a slight headache, his body felt relieved. He kicked open the door with a front snap kick.

Automatically, his right arm shot two darts at the surprised guards, and two of them fell to the ground. He was about to fire a third shot when someone made a wild grab for his arm. The guard's fingers tightened around Chuck's arm, and the guard swung his torso around, pulling Chuck into the brightly lit room filled with computer towers. Chuck crashed into the wall, and the guard brought his knee up to kick Chuck's pistol out of his hand.

As the pistol flew out of his hands, for a second, he watched as it fell to the ground. While his head was turning, Chuck was able to count three other guards—spread out across the room—aiming their Sigs at him. Chuck fell back, pulling the guard with him, and pushed the guard with his legs, flipping him over Chuck. The guard landed on his back with a sickening thud. Without a second thought, Chuck flicked his left wrist and caught his other pistol. He rolled out of the way as one of the three guards fired. The bullet missed his head by at least a foot, and Chuck fired a dart at the shooter.

He somersaulted toward another guard, and sprang up to his feet. Chuck grabbed the man's arm with his right hand, and hooked it over his arm. He snapped his forearm up, causing the man to cry out in pain. Chuck's thumb flicked the safety switch to the syringe mode, and he plunged the butt of his gun into the guard's neck. As he pulled the gun off, he flicked the switch again, and fired two quick shots. One dart landed on the last standing guard, and the other on the man that Chuck had flipped over.

Chuck unbuttoned his coat, and reached behind him for the laptop. He unzipped the overly padded case, and relaxed when he powered the computer on. In the back of his mind, what with his recent bad luck streak, he was half-expecting to get this far into the mission, only to discover that the laptop had broken. So when it had powered on, with no problems, Chuck wanted to let out a whoop of joy.

"Okay, I'm beginning the upload process," he said, typing furiously to break through Fulcrum's security. "Start heading down, I'm in the clear."

"Not quite." Carina's voice echoed, so Chuck looked up from the monitor to see her aiming her Desert Eagle at his head.

"_Dude_…seriously?" Why couldn't he just catch a damn break? And why the hell was Carina's gun so big? She really was a man-eater.

Chuck began to bring his hand down to where one of his tranq pistols was laying next to the laptop, but Carina's voice stopped him. "Put your hands up, bitch."

He rolled his eyes, and reluctantly brought up his hands. As he did so, he caught the redhead flashing him a wink. Like a snake pouncing on an unsuspecting mouse, Carina kicked the door closed and pistol whipped a guard who was hiding behind it. Chuck watched in shock as the guard fell.

"Rule number one, Ozzy," she said, grinning, "always check behind the doors. Elementary shit, man. Oh, you might want to tranq him. He'll probably remember what happened when he wakes up."

"Oh, right." Chuck picked up his gun, and shot a dart at the man. Carina bent down to pull it out, and she began to pull the darts out of the other fallen guards. "Hey," he called, causing Carina to look up at him, "thanks. You probably just saved my life, you know."

She waved away the gratitude. "You honestly forgot to check behind the door?"

"I…uh, I didn't know that I was supposed to," he said, hitting the execute key. The status bar popped up. Forty-five seconds.

Carina kneeled down beside him, and handed him back the darts and the pistol that one of the guards had knocked out of his hand. She shook her head. "Do you know anything about espionage?"

"Only from what I saw in the old Bond flicks," he replied, watching as the status bar began to fill, while hooking his pistols back up to his arm holsters.

"I'm going to have to teach you, then." He snapped his head up to meet her face, and narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"What—I don't—"

"Yeah, you do," she insisted. "We're a team now, and I don't want to work with a guy that only depends on the skills from some crazy computer in his head."

"I don't _only_ depend on the Intersect," he said, offended. He took out four guys without a flash, thank you very much.

"Whatever. When we get back to Los Angeles, I'm going to start training you. Make you better." She gave him a stern look as if to say, "and that's final." "Oh, and you really need to stop that growly, whispery voice. It gets on my nerves."

"Is that so?" he asked playfully, purposely making his voice deeper. "You don't like it?

Carina snorted, and shoved him. "Stop that!"

"Okay! I'm sorry!" he cried, chuckling as he straightened up. Carina began to laugh with him. When their laughter died, they both grinned at each other. Unsure whether or not it was his imagination, he thought he saw her eyes flick down to his lips. "Looks like the upload is done," he said, snapping the laptop shut. He pointed up at an air vent. "There's my exit. You should call your team down here, and uh…I'll wait for you under the van, yeah?"

She blinked. "Yeah, for sure," she said, nodding. "You did a pretty good job, Chucky. Well, apart from that, I mean." She gestured to the door.

"Thanks," said Chuck, strapping the laptop to his back. "You did a good job too, Eisley. Oh! Don't forget this," he unplugged a flashdrive from the main computer, and handed it to her. "I made you an extra copy to give to your bosses."

"Thank you," she said, pocketing the flashdrive.

Nodding, he stood up and climbed on top of the desk to pull himself up to the air vent. As he did so, Carina called for her team. He pulled the cover back on the vent, and began to crawl through the narrow, dusty, metallic maze. As he turned a corner, Chuck silently reasoned with himself that he only imagined Carina's bright, blue eyes flicking down to his lips. At the same time, he hoped that even if they really had looked at his lips, it was because there was something on them. As beautiful as Carina was, he couldn't ever see himself kissing her. Actually, he couldn't imagine himself kissing anyone other than Sarah.

When he made it to the end of the vent, he popped out another screen, and hopped out, landing softly on his feet on the pavement. He began to jog toward the van. It was great the Carina was on the team. She had done an incredibly good job. Without her, he would not have known what to do on this mission. But at the same time, he couldn't help but wish that it was Sarah who had been helping him instead of Carina.

After that thought crossed his mind, while he was strapping himself back to the bottom of the van, he realized that he sort of missed Sarah. A grin began to form on his face when he realized that he'd be seeing her again twelve hours from now.

**October 4, 2007  
Sarah's Hotel  
12:30 AM PST**

Sarah sat up in her bed, leaning against the headboard, and brought her knees up to her chest. She let her knees knock together for a bit before she wrapped her arms around them. Just over nine hours ago, the smoggy Los Angeles air tasted sweet. She felt light whenever she walked. There had been a bounce with every step she took. She laughed when she went to a novelty store to get Chuck a t-shirt with a picture of Chunk and Sloth from _The Goonies_. And she felt positively giddy as she imagined the look of laughter on Chuck's face when she would give it to him.

But now, she was cold. The air was sour. Her steps were heavy. Laughter was the last thing on her mind. Closing her eyes in quiet desperation, she blocked everything that had happened at the diner out of her mind. She imagined what it would be like to be someone else. Someone that could look at a person and try to judge whether they were worth getting to know, rather than sizing them up to try to pinpoint physical weak points so she could take them out easier. Another person that was free to express their emotions and not get judged or threatened. She wondered what it would be like to have a home-cooked meal every night instead of ordering room service. She just wanted to be somebody else.

Somebody who deserved Chuck.

As hard as she tried to imagine that she was someone else, it was all for naught—it was only wishful thinking. No matter what, she was always going to be CIA Agent Sarah Walker. She opened her eyes, and faced the blurry white wall, illuminated by the lights from outside downtown Los Angeles, in front of her. The sounds of car horns and police sirens split through the absolute silence.

The second their paths had crossed, she had put him in danger. Before she came along, he was fine. She had read over Jill Roberts' files the second she had started her job at Legends. After reading through them, it was clear that Roberts wasn't planted by Fulcrum. She was only there for a cover. There were no anterior motives, Sarah had realized. It was her first mistake of many.

Why did she have to look at Chuck like she had in those pictures? She didn't even know that she was capable of giving such a look of longing. She should have known better, and now, his life was in danger because she couldn't keep her emotions in.

But Chuck…God, how can she not look at him like he was the only person in the world? He was, and always has been, the warmest person she ever knew. Spending an hour with him felt like spending only five minutes. When she was with him, time would always fly by. As children, Sarah remembered having him over for dinner with her family. Her parents would set up TV trays in the living room so that they could watch _The Wonder Years_ or reruns of the old, Adam West _Batman_series. But when the programs were over, and their plates were empty, her father would drive Chuck home, and she would feel alone.

It wasn't any different now that they were adults. Whether they were out on a coffee date, watching old home videos, flicking water at each other, or reminiscing over old times, every time he left, she would feel alone.

"God damn it," she sighed, wiping away the wetness in her eyes.

Sarah knew that she shouldn't feel this way. She was a spy. It didn't matter whether she could quit or not. Even if she did quit, apparently, there was an organization out there that knew who she was. Having been in the spy game for the last five years, she knew how people like these operated. After she brings Osiris to them, they could have other intentions for her. Maybe they would want her to join them, and once again, for leverage, they would threaten to kill Chuck.

Mary Bartowski had the same training as Sarah did. In fact, Sarah was sure that Mary had been a spy far longer than Sarah was at the time when Mary was forced to leave her family, and even she didn't take the risk to run away.

_We have people in everywhere._

_You can't run. Not from us. We have resources from every branch of the government._

To her left was the nightstand. The green light from her alarm clock flickered on and off. With every flash of the green light, an old cassette tape and a folded up piece of notebook paper would glow into view. Sarah glanced down at the note on the nightstand.

_To: Sarah  
Love: Chuck_

With every blinking light, his untidy, yet somehow neat, handwriting would illuminate. Again, her vision blurred. Her eyes felt warm, and her breath caught in her throat. Although there was nobody else present in the room, she quickly wiped her eyes. The springs on the bed creaked slightly as she reached for the note on the nightstand. The paper felt old and coarse beneath her fingers.

Letting out a breath, Sarah slid out of the bed, with the note still in her hand. Across the room, there was a dresser where she had secured her spy will. She pulled open the drawer, and reached for the red, rectangular, plastic case. With slight difficulty, from having never been opened since she wrote her will two years ago, she pried it open and placed Chuck's note inside.

* * *

**A/N:** MamaB is quite scary, yet sweet, isn't she? Anyway, I won't say when the next chapter will be posted, because every time I do, something bad happens to me. True story. But I can say that it's in the process of being written right now, and it's probably 60% done. Speaking of the next chapter, I've made a playlist for it: http:/www(dot)playlist(dot)com/playlist/20484691723

So what does that playlist mean? You'll find out. Go ahead and listen to it if you'd like.

Also, I've written the first chapter to a companion piece in Carina's POV which will probably be called **Carina's Condition**. It's in the process of beta'ed by the great **mxpw** (did you know that **mxpw** means Maximum Xtreme Power Writer? Well, now you do.), and it should be posted within the next couple of days. Hopefully, you guys will find it funny and entertaining.

Here's a little snippet for you guys:

_It's both a blessing and a curse, this condition I have. You see, there are a lot of things that turn me on. Yeah, I'm not going to sugarcoat it, I'm a nymphomaniac. After I got out of the Farm, my boss wanted me to see a therapist. They say that my behavior is unhealthy. I don't see it that way. I don't know why people are telling me that I have problems. Some people like to run or eat chocolate to relieve stress—I like to have sex. I don't see anyone giving runners or chocolate lovers any shit about what they do. _

_Guess what, runners? Fifteen minutes of a good ol' rump in the hay burns way more calories than an hour of running, so suck it. It's also a lot easier on the knees too. Yeah, I'm talking to you, Walker. You big prude. She never wants to make out with me after missions, which is a total drag. _

Anyway, thank you guys for reading! Let me know what you thought of the chapter!


	8. Little Reminders

**A/N: **Nothing much to say, really. Just a short (okay, it's short for me), transitional chapter setting up a couple of plot points before we get to the big stuff. As always, I gotta thank **mxpw** because, well…he's a splendid beta. I also have to thank the readers, of course!

Ah, yes, I can't forget about the playlist: **http:/www(dot)playlist(dot)com/playlist/20484691723**

**

* * *

**

**October 6, 2007  
Casa de Bartowski  
12:35 AM PST**

She leaned back in the loveseat in Chuck's entertainment room. Chuck's head was resting on her lap. Ellie and her ridiculously awesome boyfriend, Devon, were cuddled together on the couch, looking peaceful, happy, and in love. Sarah let her fingers tangle in Chuck's short hair, and she wished that it was longer.

There was a part of her knew that she should excuse herself and go stake-out Castle for any sign of Osiris, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. The night had been too much fun. She had wined and dined with Chuck, Ellie, and Devon at a small seafood restaurant earlier. They had all laughed at Chuck's jokes, and she sat in amusement while Chuck had convinced Devon to display his awesomeness.

It was Ellie's last night at Chuck's mansion before she would move into Devon's apartment. The least Sarah could do was roll with the punches when Ellie had invited her over to watch a movie with them. After all, it would have been extremely rude to Ellie if Sarah had declined the invitation.

Her original intentions were to excuse herself halfway through the first _Lord of the Rings_ movie. But before she could, Chuck had wrapped his arm around her shoulder and brought her closer to him, so she had forgotten to leave before Gandalf the Grey sacrificed himself.

When _The Fellowship_ had ended, Casey had walked in to the entertainment room, and announced that he was going to bed. He had given Sarah a look that told her that he was actually going to go on a stake-out. That meant that Sarah would have to stay with Chuck until Casey got back. Chuck did need constant surveillance after all.

Devon had gotten off of the couch to pop in _The Two Towers_. Somewhere between the part where Frodo fell in that disgusting, murky lake filled with zombies and where the guy that was in that one horse movie fell off a cliff after his foot got caught on a gigantic pig-horse, Chuck had rested his head on her shoulder. As the movie progressed, his head had fallen on her lap while her legs were curled underneath her. It was uncomfortable, but Sarah let it slide. Chuck was probably really tired after his flight home from Virginia, she had reasoned.

"Sarah?" called a feminine voice, startling her awake.

Sarah rubbed her eyes, wondering when she had fallen asleep. She felt Chuck stirring, when she looked up at Ellie who was smiling at her.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but Devon and I are going to bed," she said. "You and Chuck should call it a night too."

She looked around to see if Casey had left any signs that he had come back from the stake-out, but she didn't see any. She was going to have to double check, though. "Okay," she said to Ellie, nodding sleepily.

Ellie frowned down at her younger brother who was still sleeping. Without warning, the elder Bartowski leaned down and flicked him on the nose. Chuck shot up, his eyes still half-closed, shouting, "Gandalf, no!"

Startled by how quickly Chuck had shot up, Sarah gaped at him. Ellie, however, flicked his nose again.

"Ow! Stop that!" Chuck groaned, his eyes slightly unfocused.

"Your big head was probably cutting off Sarah's circulation, you jerk," Ellie scolded.

Sarah laughed. "It's okay, Ellie, I'm fine."

"That's not the point," said Ellie, turning back to Chuck. "She was stuck in a really uncomfortable position because you fell asleep on her!"

Chuck's head snapped to face Sarah. He had an apologetic look on his face. "Oh, God—I'm so sorry!" he cried.

Sarah smiled and was about to tell him that she was okay, but Ellie spoke first. "Good, you better be!" she said, grinning, and ruffling his hair. "Well, you two—I'm gonna go get some sleep."

"Did Devon already go up?" asked Chuck, looking around the room.

"Yeah," Ellie replied. "Good night, you guys."

"Night," Sarah and Chuck chorused, both of them watching as Ellie made her way upstairs.

"Sorry I fell asleep on you," said Chuck, yawning. "You do make a comfy pillow, though."

"That's good to know," she deadpanned. "And it's all right. You must be tired. You were in Carina's office all night, right?"

Chuck gave her a confused look. "Oh, that," he said, chuckling. "Yeah. That office, I'm not going to lie, was pretty boring."

Sarah chuckled. "Well, not everyone's cool enough to be able to have videogames, bars, and big, comfy couches in their offices."

"I know," he said in a mock-grave tone, nodding somberly. "It's hard being this cool, you know?"

"I can only imagine." She sighed playfully and patted Chuck's knee. "Okay, I'm going to see if Casey's back yet. I can't leave unless he's here."

Chuck nodded, yawning sleepily again. Sarah uncurled her legs from beneath her, and began to stand up. Before she could fully stand, however, a horrible sensation of pins and needles shot through her left leg. "Ah!" she yelped, stumbling forward.

Chuck jumped to his feet, and caught her before she fell to the floor. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and she steadied herself by holding onto his shoulders with her hands.

Chuck gave her a concerned look. "Are you okay?" he asked, straightening both of them up so that they were fully standing.

Trying to shift her weight off her left leg, Sarah shifted her arms so that they were wrapped loosely around Chuck's neck. "Yeah," she said, chuckling. "My leg fell asleep."

Chuck's eyebrows shot up. "Yikes." His expression softened, and he grinned down at her.

"I know, right?" She laughed, and shifted her weight again.

When she looked back up at Chuck, she realized that their faces were very close together—maybe an inch apart. Their bodies were flush, pressed up against each other, close enough so that she could feel his ribs expanding and contracting with each breath that he took. If she tilted her head up a fraction of an inch, their lips would be able to touch.

The smile on his face slowly evaporated, replacing it with a determined look. His eyes never left hers. "I've missed you while I was away," he said softly.

"You were only gone for a day and a half."

"I know. And I missed you." He leaned his forehead gently against hers.

Her eyes shut as she let out a shaky breath, and her heart pounded against her ribcage. A voice in her head told her that she needed to stop this. Situations like this were what had caused her to be threatened in the first place. But they were alone. It was only the two of them in Chuck's entertainment room.

"I missed you too," she breathed, wanting to tell him how worried she was, and still is, that there were people out there that would kill him if she didn't do what they asked her to do in time.

Chuck pulled his head back slowly, and again, he looked into her eyes. He gave her a small smile as his left hand gripped tighter on the small of her back. His right hand brushed away some stray strands of hair that had been framing the sides of her face, and he rested it softly on her neck. Sarah closed her eyes again when Chuck leaned down. She could almost feel his lips against hers, and she wanted nothing more than to pull them down to her.

And then, her phone beeped loudly. The beeping noise echoed in the large room.

They both jumped back. Sarah had landed on her left foot. Another wave of pins and needles shot through her leg, causing her to fall sideways. With amazingly quick reflexes, Chuck caught her again before she fell and sat her back down on the couch.

"I'll get your purse," he said, frustration evident in his voice.

She wanted to call after him. Tell him that he didn't need to, and that he should stay, but he had already stalked over to the side of the couch where her handbag was resting. Sarah puffed out a breath of air, feeling frustrated as well. She knew that it was Casey who had texted her. Making a mental note to break Casey's microwave on her way out for depriving her of a steamy kiss, and most likely so much more, she crossed her arms across her chest and huffed out a long sigh.

At the same time, however, she felt relieved at knowing that Chuck was just as frustrated as she was. Well, she was downright pissed off, but it was mostly due to annoyance. She bit her bottom lip to keep from grinning as she realized that Chuck had feelings for her.

A few seconds later, Chuck returned, handing her purse to her.

"Thank you," she said, unzipping it. She pulled her phone out and flipped it open to read her text message.

She was right. The text was from Casey: "On my way back—I'll be there in five. Get ready to take over for me."

Sarah's face fell, and she looked up at Chuck apologetically. A part of her questioned why Carina didn't have to take over the stake-out, but she realized it would be for the best if she just took over. She needed to bring Osiris to Mary anyway.

"I have to get ready to go," she said, snapping her phone shut, and tossing it back into her purse.

"Oh…" Chuck slumped down next to her, looking disappointed. "That sucks."

"I'm not going to disagree with you there," she said.

He gave her a half-grin, chortling, and he looked back down at his shoes.

Sarah reached over and gently pulled his head back up to face her. Without a second thought, she leaned into him and pressed her lips against his. She let it linger for a moment, and pulled away slowly. He looked at her in surprise.

"Are you free for lunch tomorrow?" she asked, pecking his lips once more.

"I have to go to a marketing presentation," he replied, pushing his lips onto hers again. "How about dinner?"

"Yeah…dinner," she said breathily, pulling Chuck with her as she lied back on the sofa.

Chuck seemed surprised at first. But when Sarah framed the sides of his face and let her fingers get tangled in his short hair, he relaxed and began to kiss her intensely.

"You should grow out your hair," she said after she had pulled away for a breath of air.

"Maybe I will," he said, sounding distracted as Sarah began to kiss his neck.

"_Eh-hem_."

The noise startled both Chuck and Sarah, and caused Chuck to spring to his feet. Lifting herself up to a seated position, Sarah looked behind the couch to see Casey leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of him, with an amused expression on his face. Well, it was more like an amused grimace, but for Casey, an amused grimace was his version of beaming happily.

"It's pretty late, Walker," he said, looking down at his watch.

"Is it?" Sarah narrowed her eyes. All intentions of buying Casey a new bonsai tree after she had kicked it off a table when she found out that she had to be one of Chuck's handlers went down the drain. However, her desire to break his microwave increased. "I guess I should get going then, huh?"

"The taxpayers aren't paying your salary for you to make out with your boy-toy, so maybe you should."

"You are absolutely right, Major," she said in a forced, cheerful voice. "Just give me a minute to bid Chuck goodnight, and I'll be out of your hair."

Casey rolled his eyes and turned to leave the room.

Sarah looked at Chuck and smiled apologetically. "I should be going now." She wrapped her arms around him, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay." He gave her a peck in return. "Goodnight, Sarah."

* * *

**October 7, 2007  
Orion's Lair  
11:40 AM PST**

For an hour, Chuck sat in a chair, not paying attention to the monitor from which his father was broadcasting. Because Carina was new, Stephen had left the house in Encino. Chuck had no idea where he went. Instead of looking up at the monitor, where Stephen's face was distorted by blue, raining digits, Chuck was playing _Tetris_ on his phone. Bryce was sitting next to Carina, playing with a PSP, while Jill was sitting beside Chuck, reading a magazine.

Stephen wasn't telling Carina anything new from what Chuck had already told her, but she appeared to be listening intently anyway.

An hour later, Chuck strapped on his arm holster, and held his arm out in front of Carina. "You see this little lever right here?" he asked, pointing with his free hand to a tiny, metallic piece below his palm. "You just bend your wrist like so," he bent his wrist, and the palm of his hand pressed against the lever, "then you flick your hand back out." He straightened out his hand, the tranq pistol sprang out, and he caught it.

"Neat," said Carina, not really looking impressed.

"Our pistols have a new gadget built in," Chuck continued. "There's a hundred cc syringe at the butt of our guns. To activate it, just pull the safety all the way back, and it'll release the latch that holds onto your pistol." He demonstrated, and the latch of his holster sprang back while a syringe needle poked out at the bottom of the gun. Chuck twisted the gun, and held it by the barrel. "You can't just stick someone with the needle—it needs a bit of force. So pretty much, you can just pistol whip someone, and they'll take a nice, hour-long nap. With each hit, you inject five cc of Jill's tranq juice into the bad guy."

The redhead frowned. "Your pistols aren't reloadable?"

"Each magazine holds fifteen darts," said Bryce. "You can empty two magazines before you need to refill the gun with compressed air. The syringes are there for close combat or if you run out of darts."

She took the pistol from Chuck, and aimed it off to the side. "What's the range on this?"

"It's accurate to about seventy-five yards," said Chuck, "depending on if there's headwind or not."

"Not bad for a tranq," said Carina, handing the pistol back to Chuck. She nodded behind Chuck. "Why do you always wear suits?"

Chuck shifted embarrassedly, while Bryce and Jill laughed. "Because," said Chuck, "the body armor is _really_ tight, and I feel uncomfortable running around with my…you know…out there for the world to see. Also because I thought it would look cool."

Carina's eyes flicked down to his crotch. She grinned at him. "Why? Is it small?"

Chuck laughed. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he teased back, used to Carina's comments by now. He decided that he might as well give as good as he got.

"I would, actually," she said. "Now, I'm just curious."

Bryce coughed loudly. "Jill? Why don't you take Carina's measurements so that you can fit her with her own suit, yeah?"

Jill nodded, and turned to Carina. "Come on," said Jill, leading Carina into her office.

Chuck looked down at Bryce who was looking at him in an accusing way. "What?"

"What's going on with you and Carina?" asked Bryce, crossing his arms across his chest.

"What?" he repeated.

Bryce tilted his head and widened his eyes. "Are you into her?"

Chuck laughed. "Dude, we're just friends," he said reassuringly through his laughter. "We had a good bonding session in Virginia."

"Bonding or bondage?"

"Bonding," he replied, still chuckling.

Bryce was still glaring at him.

"Bryce," said Chuck, his face falling into a serious expression. "Come on, man. She's still into you. I promise you, I'm not into Carina."

"You're sure?"

Chuck sighed. "Yes. You know what? I'm just going to say it," he huffed. "I'm into Sarah. There. I said it out loud. Now, I feel like a little high school girl."

Finally, Bryce's expression softened. "It's about time you admitted it." Relief was evident in his voice.

"Yeah, well…" he trailed off, remembering the kiss from the other night, the kiss that Sarah had initiated after Casey's text message. "I don't see the point in denying it anymore."

"Good for you, big guy," said Bryce. "Anyway, Orion and I had a talk last night."

"About what?" He unstrapped his arm holster and sat beside Bryce.

"Carina. Orion wants her to scope out Wall Street to see how many people Omega planted there."

Chuck nodded. It made sense, seeing as Omega wanted to start another economic depression. There would most likely be a swarm of their operatives planted in Wall Street. If that was the case, then it would only be a matter of time before they caused a stock market crash. "She's stationed here, though."

"She gave the CIA Fulcrum's intel," said Bryce. "That means they'll be able to locate and capture Fulcrum's director, and so—"

"Carina gets the glory," Chuck finished, nodding.

"Yep, she'll be Graham's golden spy. He'll probably give her a choice of assignments. That's what he did for me anyway."

From what they had gathered, Chuck knew that it was widely believed that the Ring was based out of New York. He guessed that Carina could tell Graham that she wanted to do her part in taking the Ring down, and Graham would fall for the idea. Carina could request a cover job at the New York Stock Exchange, and his father could give her a list of all of the known Omega operatives.

"I think it could work," said Chuck.

* * *

**October 25, 2007  
Legends Fitness Facility  
2:00 PM PST**

Sarah was sprinting around the indoor track with a purpose in her long sleeved, light blue, running top. Beads of sweat began to drip down her face, but she didn't bother to wipe it off. Her lungs were protesting each time her sneakers pounded down on the hardwood track. She ignored that as well.

It didn't make any sense. Why didn't Carina leave? Graham had relieved her—had given her a choice of any assignment after Fulcrum's director had been caught. She was the CIA's golden girl for having found Fulcrum's headquarters while she and Chuck were in Virginia. She was the one that was responsible for Fulcrum's quick collapse. Carina could have gone anywhere in the world to do anything she wanted, and she requested to stay in Los Angeles to remain one of Chuck's handlers?

A terrible thought inked its way into her head. Carina and Chuck had been spending a lot of time together lately. Every day, after work, Sarah would see the two of them running around this same track together, or lifting weights. She had even seen Carina trying to teach Chuck yoga. What if there was something going on between them?

Ashamed that she was so worried over something that was probably nothing, Sarah sprinted past a woman. Her calves began to tighten, and her brain was telling her to slow it down a bit. So she gradually slowed to a jog, and finally, to a walk. Tearing her earphones out of her ears and tossing them over her shoulder to hang, she walked over to the side of the track where she had been keeping her water bottle. The water was lukewarm as it washed down her throat.

"You were running like the devil was after you," said a familiar voice from behind her.

Swallowing the last of her water, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and turned to see Chuck grinning at her. He was wearing a red Stanford shirt with a pair of dark blue basketball shorts.

She grinned back. "It's been a long morning," she said, holding out her hand. "Walk around the track with me?"

After pretending to ponder, Chuck shrugged. "I guess I can do that." He took her hand. In a deep, dramatic, British accent, he said, "Let us embark on a dangerous journey around the mystical air track. Who knows what dangers we may face?"

"Nobody does." Sarah played along, imitating Chuck's accent. "We may come across track trolls, and track goblins…or the evil ogre who goes by the name of Casey," she added when they walked past the weight room, pointing to Casey while he was doing a set of squats.

Chuck laughed.

"I take it that you talked Casey into coming here with you?"

"Yep. It's a Saturday, and I needed to work out," he replied, swinging their hands, "I didn't expect to run into you, though. Don't you have some awesome, super secret spy gym that only agents are allowed to go to?"

"I actually do, but I didn't feel like going there," Sarah admitted.

Hanging around Castle had been torture for her lately. Every time she walked past a group of analysts, she can imagine them singing, _Another One Bites the Dust_, referring to her feelings for Chuck, and the fact that she may very well leave the agency for him. Her feelings for Chuck didn't bother her. What bothered her was that everyone, evil anarchists included, was making a big deal out of it.

"Is it because you guys don't have a mystical air track?"

She grinned. "Totally."

He grinned back, and they walked in silence for a bit. The gym was mostly empty. Before Chuck arrived, there had been five people, including her. Now, there were seven, including Casey. The woman that Sarah had run past was no longer on the track, and was making her way over to the elliptical machine. It was only her and Chuck walking along the wooden circle. The silence was only broken by Sarah's heavy breathing from her run, their echoing footsteps, and the music that was emitting from her headphones.

Chuck leaned down close to her shoulder to try to figure out what she had been listening to and chuckled. "Really?"

"What?" she asked, slightly embarrassed.

"_Hollaback Girl_?"

"What?" She playfully pouted and bumped her shoulder into his arm. "It's a catchy song."

"Indeed it is," he agreed, nodding. "It's certainly bananas."

A giggle escaped her throat.

"Anyway. You said you had a long morning? You want to talk about it?"

Sarah shrugged. It wouldn't be a good idea to tell Chuck that she was worried that something was going on between him and Carina. It would make her seem…_possessive_, wouldn't it? If she was under different circumstances, where his life wasn't being threatened because of who she was, then she would have asked him. But she wasn't. Even though it was painful, she was going to leave after she found Osiris. Chuck would be safer if she wasn't there.

"Come on, Sarah," he said, tickling her stomach and causing her to chuckle. "Talk to Dr. Chuck."

She grinned up at him, ignoring the heaviness in her chest. Ready to tell him that nothing was wrong, she stopped when she saw a tall, red headed figure from her peripheral vision. Her grin faded. Carina was wearing a dark purple sports bra and a pair of running shorts, and she was stretching her legs. Chuck furrowed his eyebrows in concern and turned to see what she had been looking at.

"I thought Carina was leaving," he said, looking surprised. "At least, that's what she told me yesterday after work."

"That's what I thought too," said Sarah, ignoring the bitter edge in her voice. Turning back to Chuck, she noticed that he was still looking over at Carina in confusion. She bumped her shoulder into him again. "You okay, Chuck?"

His eyes snapped back to hers. "Yeah," he said. "I'm fine."

* * *

**October 26, 2007  
Casa de Bartowski  
8:30 PM PST**

Chuck spread the mayonnaise evenly across the slice of egg-bread when Carina walked into the brightly lit kitchen.

"You're taking over my babysitting duties tonight?" he asked, looking up from the bread.

"Yep," she replied. "Oh, Jill's got my armor ready for me—and my mask too."

"That's cool." He grabbed a few slices of smoked turkey. "Have you decided on what you're going to wear over your armor? Oh, you want a sandwich?"

"Sure, but be sure to put extra mayo on it," she replied, sitting behind the breakfast bar. "And I'm not going to wear anything over the armor. I had Jill spray a layer of black latex over it. Pretty hot, don't you think?"

He chuckled. "Sure," he said, topping the sandwich off with a slice of Muenster cheese. Clapping his hands together, he began to work on Carina's sandwich. "Can I ask you a question?"

"If you're going to ask me if I want to do you on this counter, then the answer is yes," she joked.

"That was a close guess," he deadpanned, "but no. That's not what I was going to ask. Actually, I was wondering why you didn't take Graham's offer to have your choice of assignment? I mean, we had that whole NYSE thing planned out, you know?"

"I didn't leave because I knew that you'd miss me," she replied. "But seriously, Graham didn't even offer me a choice of assignments. He wanted me to stay here."

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

"Yep, I was just as shocked as you are."

"Huh…" He walked over to the refrigerator to grab two bottles of beer. It didn't make sense. Bryce was certain that Graham would give Carina her choice of missions. It was rare for Bryce to be wrong. He was more like Stephen than Chuck was. Chuck let it slide, though. Bryce had to be proven wrong at least a couple of times in his life, Chuck decided.

He handed Carina her sandwich and a beer.

"I have a question for you, Mr. Chuckles," she said, uncapping the bottle.

Chuck shuddered. "Don't call me Mr. Chuckles…it makes me think of clowns." He hated clowns.

Carina ignored him. "Why wasn't I invited to the Halloween party?"

"For a couple of reasons," he replied. He paused so that he could take a bite of his sandwich. It tasted good, he decided, impressed with his sandwich making ability. After Ellie had moved, he wasn't able to eat properly since neither he nor Casey was good at cooking. While Casey lived off his seemingly endless supply of Hot Pockets, Chuck had been living off of boxed macaroni and cheese and Top Ramen noodles.

"And those reasons are?"

Chuck swallowed the bite of sandwich. "I didn't think you'd still be here. Actually, that's the only reason. Oh, and Sarah's my date, and it's my sister's party. But if you want to go, then I'm sure Ellie wouldn't mind."

"I'll consider it," she said, taking a sip of beer. "What are you going as?"

"Sarah and I are going as Neo and Trinity from _The Matrix_," he replied proudly. "Sarah wanted to go as Han Solo and Princess Leia—the slave costume—but I thought she'd be chilly. Ellie's throwing the party in the courtyard of her and Awesome's apartment complex."

Carina stared blankly at him, slowly chewing her sandwich. "Yeah, all that? I don't know what any of it means."

"That's why Google was invented." Chuck took a long swing of beer. "Anyway, if you want to swing by, then you're more than welcome to."

"Do you want me to?"

"Yeah," he replied. "It'll be fun. Well, it might be. Bryce can't go, because Ellie thinks he's dead." Chuck shrugged, tearing the crust off his bread. He smiled up at her. "But you're a pretty girl. I'm sure you'll have fun beating guys off you with a stick. Actually, I hope you use a stick. Please don't bring a gun to my sister's party."

To Chuck's surprise, Carina blushed. He never would have thought that was possible.

"You think I'm pretty?"

"Uh…yes?" An awkward feeling crept through him as he remembered the way Carina had stared at his lips after the last Fulcrum mission. But that had probably been his imagination, seeing as he had been sleep deprived for nearly a whole week during the time of that mission. "So how are things with Bryce?"

She shrugged. "Terribly boring. I have to do all the work. I know there are things that Bryce can't do anymore, like the drain cleaner, the frothy walrus, and the hayride. But there are still a couple of things that he should be able to do like the dunking dolphin. He won't even let me do the double kangaroo scissor kick to him anymore."

What Carina had just said made absolutely no sense to Chuck. He got the general gist of it, but he had absolutely no idea what a double kangaroo scissor kick was. "I'm sorry." He couldn't think of anything else he might have said. "Out of curiosity, what is the double kangaroo scissor kick exactly?"

"Okay, so…" Carina grinned and held up her sandwich. "Imagine that this piece of turkey is…"

* * *

**October 31, 2007  
Echo Park  
7:15 PM PST**

It was a conflicting choice to go to Ellie's Halloween party. She probably should be in Castle watching for any sign of Osiris. It had been just over a month since his last sighting, and it made her uneasy. There was a chance that Osiris didn't know that Fulcrum had been shut down, and he that he would break into the dummy base that Fulcrum had planted in West Covina, so sometimes Sarah would wait there, inside her car.

Casey had insisted she take a night off. And if Sarah was going to be honest with herself, she was actually having a good time at Ellie's party. How could she not when Chuck, dressed up as Neo, and Morgan Grimes, dressed up as Chewbacca, were reenacting the bullet dodge scene from _The Matrix_ while Morgan was wailing like Chewbacca?

Ellie had decorated the courtyard of her apartment complex excellently. Cobwebs hung from the pillars, plastic skulls and jack-o'-lanterns rested around the fountain in the middle of the courtyard, and she had set up a long food table off to the side filled with finger sandwiches, chips and dip, cupcakes, cookies, and a variety of fun-sized candy-bars.

She turned to the bar to see Ellie, dressed up as Eve with well-placed leaves covering her, and Devon, dressed up as Adam with a very well-placed leaf covering his—Sarah coughed—crotch, were dancing along with the others in attendance. They looked happy, she realized, smiling. Sarah was glad to see that Ellie had found herself a man like Devon, because he was, as Chuck put it, truly awesome.

Chuck walked up to her, still laughing from his little game with Morgan, and took her hand. "You wanna dance?" He performed a little cabbage patch dance.

Sarah giggled. "Sure." She let Chuck lead her over to the side of the fountain.

"Okay, I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything, but I've got some killer dance moves," he said, jokingly, bopping his head (out of beat) to the pop song that was playing in the background.

"Clearly." Although dancing was part of her training, Sarah did an out of beat dice toss.

"Wow, we're so white."

"I know, right? You want to do the middle-school shuffle?" Sarah stretched her arms out and placed her hands on Chuck's shoulder. There was about a foot and half of air between them, and they both burst out laughing. From the corner of her eye, Sarah could see Ellie running over to the stereo. A moment later, a slower song began to play. Ellie flashed Sarah a quick thumbs up before she returned to Devon.

"That was convenient," said Chuck, echoing her thoughts. He laughed and stepped closer to Sarah and wrapped his arms around her waist, while she wrapped hers around his shoulders.

Since she was dressed as Trinity from _The Matrix_, every time she moved, her latex costume would make a squeaky noise. "For the record, I should have came here as Princess Leia."

"I didn't want you to get cold."

"It's not even that chilly out," she said, pouting playfully.

"I thought it would be. I must have forgotten that we're in California." He shrugged. "But I think you look great. A lot of the other guys seem to too."

Sarah shrugged. She didn't care what the other men at the party thought about her, but she didn't want to miss an opportunity to tease Chuck a bit. "How does that make you feel?"

"I'm not gonna lie, it actually makes me a little jealous."

"Just a little?" She quirked her eyebrow and smiled lightly.

Chuck blushed. "A little more than little."

Sarah laughed, but her laughter died down when she saw Carina, dressed as Princess Leia in her slave costume, walking into the courtyard. Nearly every head turned in the redhead's direction, and she ignored them all, as she flaunted off her flat stomach. When Sarah met Carina's eyes, the other woman gave her a satisfied smile as she walked over to her and Chuck. _She_ was supposed to be Princess Leia, damn it, not Carina.

"What's wrong?" Chuck looked over his shoulder, and his mouth dropped slightly.

"Heya, boss," said Carina. "Like my costume?"

"Yeah, it's cool." Chuck chuckled uncomfortably.

Carina pouted, to Sarah's dismay. That was her move too! "Just 'cool?'"

_Oh my God_!

"Why are you here, Carina?" Sarah asked, cutting across Chuck.

"Oh, Chucky invited me!"

"I didn't think you'd actually—"

"Shouldn't you be at your post?" She ignored Chuck squirming awkwardly.

"Casey's got it covered. Don't worry about it." Carina looked at Chuck. "Why wouldn't you think that I'd come? Hell, I'd come twice if you wanted me to."

Chuck, eyes flicking around the courtyard, looked extremely uncomfortable. "Um…I'm going to get a drink. Do you ladies want anything?"

"You know what I want," said Carina.

"I actually don't…"

"Vodka tonic," she said.

"Oh, right. Sarah?"

Sarah didn't take her eyes off Carina. "The same."

"Okay, so I will be…" Chuck backed away slowly, and then he stalked away.

"Nice costume, Walker," said Carina, following as Sarah led them over to the side of the fountain. "What are you supposed to be again? A black-colored condom?"

"Oh, that's funny coming from a transvestite prostitute," Sarah retorted. "You have a job to do, Carina. Just because you're Graham's golden girl now doesn't mean you can slack off."

"Why should you get to have all the fun?"

"Because Chuck's my boy—we have a cover to maintain." She cleared her throat. "Also, I've been at my post at Castle every night for the last three weeks. That's more than I can say for you."

Carina shrugged. "Like you said, I'm Graham's golden girl now." She looked behind Sarah. "Chuck's looking pretty hot tonight."

"I know, right?" Sarah looked around, and saw Morgan munching on a cupcake by the food table. He was trying to keep the frosting from dribbling down his furry costume, and an idea occurred to her. "You know what, Carina? You need a date. Morgan!" Sarah waved over Morgan enthusiastically.

"Walker, what the hell?"

"He's Chuck's friend," said Sarah softly through the corners of her lips. "He's stag, like you! You guys should get to know each other."

Morgan approached them, his eyes widening at the sight of Carina. "Hello, ladies." He turned to Carina and took her hand. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Morgan Grimes. And you must be…?"

Carina seemed to have noticed flecks of food all over the little man's beard, and she flashed Sarah a murderous glare. "Carina Hansen. I'm Chuck's assistant," she said, plastering a fake smile on her face while Morgan brought her hand up his lips.

"So, Morgan, Chuck's over at the bar getting some drinks for us," said Sarah, pointing at the bar. "You think you can help him out?"

"Oh, but of course!" Morgan cried enthusiastically. "I'll be right back."

As Morgan scampered away, Carina's smile transitioned into another glare. "Nicely done, Walker."

She gave Carina a wink. _That's what you get for stealing my moves_.

* * *

**November 4, 2007  
Orion's Cabin  
4:15 PM PST**

Chuck parked his Aston Martin DBS outside of the wood surrounded cabin, and made his way to the front door. Instead of knocking, he opened a panel, and scanned his thumbprint. The door clicked and opened, revealing a modest living room filled with some old furniture. His father was sitting in front of a very large monitor.

"Hello, Charles." Stephen didn't look away from the screen.

"Hey, Dad. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I wanted to talk to you about a few things," Stephen replied. "How did you slip away from your handlers?"

"I told them that I was going over to Bryce's with Carina."

"Hansen is at the base, then?"

"Yep."

Stephen nodded, but he didn't say anything.

Chuck looked at his watch. He had to get back to Los Angeles by 5:00 before it was Casey's turn to watch him. "I don't mean to sound rude, but we have to make this quick."

"Right, of course." Stephen took his glasses off and placed them on the desk. "There's an Omega agent planted at Legends. The one that you ID'ed—Sydney Prince."

Chuck stood straighter. "What? Which department?"

"She's in the finance department, overseeing the budget for the R&D department."

Chuck groaned. How could he have missed that? Research and development was his favorite department too. "So should Carina and I bring her back to base?"

"Just Carina," said Stephen. "I want to see if we can trust her."

"You're the one that wanted to send her to New York if Graham gave her a reassignment." Chuck wrinkled his brows. He realized that he may never fully understand how his father's mind worked.

Stephen scratched his arm absentmindedly. "Exactly, but she didn't go. There's something off-putting about that, because Bryce was sure that Graham would give her a choice of assignments. I think she chose to stay here."

"You think that Carina lied to us?" asked Chuck, scoffing. "I don't think she did. I think we can trust her."

Stephen shrugged. "We'll see. If Carina does succeed in her mission, have her bring Prince down to the holding cells in the Den. You and Bryce can interrogate her."

Chuck nodded and clapped his hands together. "Well, if that's all you wanted to talk about, then I'll—"

His father shook his head, and held up a finger. "One more thing, Charles, we're going to have to put recruiting Walker and Casey on hold for awhile."

Chuck frowned. If he was being honest, he hadn't really thought about recruiting Sarah and Casey after Carina had joined the team. But now that Stephen mentioned it, he didn't understand fully why he would want to put the side mission on hold. He guessed that it was because Stephen didn't trust Carina quite yet.

"Is it because you don't trust Carina?"

Stephen nodded. "There's that, and the fact that it was Sarah who gave Sydney a second interview."

Chuck laughed incredulously. "What, so you think Sarah's in Omega now?"

His father gave him a stern look. "Charles, you have to take these things seriously. And I'm not saying that Sarah's in Omega, but it's a possibility. Don't let your feelings for her get in the way of what's really out there."

"Okay, fine," said Chuck, rolling his eyes. He knew that Sarah wasn't in Omega. She had just made an honest mistake. If Omega wanted someone in his company, then they would have made sure their operative would be hired.

"Be cautious, Charles."

"I will." Chuck took his phone out of his pocket to check the time. "You think I could make it back to L.A. in thirty-five minutes?"

"You're going to have to."

"Wish me luck," he said, turning to leave the cabin. He stopped. "Dad, Ellie's getting married next May."

"I wish I could be there."

Chuck frowned. "You can. It's just going to be friends and family."

"You're most likely still going to have handlers by then."

"I'm sure that I can recruit Sarah and Casey by May," said Chuck, rolling his eyes. "Come on, Dad. She's your daughter. Don't you want to walk her down the aisle?"

Stephen leaned back in his chair and faced the large monitor again. "Your sister doesn't want anything to do with me. You can walk her down the aisle. She deserves to be walked down the aisle by someone who has actually been there for her." He began to type.

"Well, just think about it," said Chuck, turning to the door. "I know that you and I clash heads a lot, but I still consider you my father. And I'm sure if you made a little effort with Ellie, she'd want you back in her life too."

* * *

**November 12, 2007  
Legend Enterprises  
9:15 AM PST**

The clock was ticking. She could feel it. December was just around the corner, and still, there had been no sign of Osiris. It began to make her feel uneasy. What if Osiris didn't want to hit Castle? What if he had all of the information that he needed and was doing his part to put a stop to whatever organization Mary Bartowski was in?

Sarah looked over the itinerary that Chuck had made for her. He was going to be traveling a lot in the next couple of weeks for the public release of the L-Phone. She scanned the bottom of the paper. On the twenty-ninth, he was going to be in New York. If she couldn't capture Osiris by then, she was going to accompany Chuck on his trip. She needed to map out an escape route, but…

"Hey," said Chuck, interrupting her thoughts. He was grinning from her door. "Is it cool if I come in?"

Sarah smiled. "Of course you can. What's up?"

He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and placed his messenger bag on her desk. "Wanted to give you a few things." He began to unlatch the front clasps of his bag.

She raised an eyebrow. What would Chuck want to give her? "What's the occasion?"

He looked at her in dismay. "Are you kidding? It's your birthday!"

"What? Oh…" The last time she had celebrated her birthday was fifteen years ago. Since then, she had forgotten what it was like to celebrate birthdays.

"Don't tell me you forgot your birthday!" Chuck playfully gave her a stern look.

"No, it's just…" She frowned. "You remembered my birthday?"

"Of course I did." He handed her a narrow box. "That one's for the cover." He smiled eagerly. "Come on. Open it!"

Unable to keep the smile from forming on her face, Sarah began to tear away at the tape. It was a habit that she learned from her mother years ago. "Always save the wrapping paper, Sarah!" her mother would say even though they always ended up throwing the wrapping paper away. When she finally unwrapped all of the paper, she saw a blue Tiffany necklace box.

"Chuck…" She trailed off with a frown. It wasn't that she didn't like the heart-shaped pendant necklace, it was very pretty, but it was too much. "You didn't have to do this for me."

"You don't like it?" he asked, his face falling. "Ellie told me that every girl would love getting anything from Tiffany's."

Aw…he had asked Ellie for advice. Sarah tried to keep from smiling, but she failed. "No, it's just that…I don't know. This must have cost you a lot of money."

Chuck laughed. "I know, right? Gosh, I don't know what I'm going to do for the rest of the month. That _totally_ cleaned me out," he deadpanned. "But you're going to have to wear that. Ellie knows that I got it for you, and I think her feelings would be hurt more than mine if you don't wear it."

Well, if he put it that way, then she had no other choice but to wear it. She giggled. "Thank you, Chuck. It's beautiful."

"Here." He took the box from her and walked behind her seat. She felt the cool, white gold on her neck and shivered. "There you go. Turn around so I can see how it looks."

"Dork." Sarah rolled her eyes, still smiling, and turned around.

Chuck was grinning widely. "It looks great on you."

"It actually is really pretty," she said, fingering the pendant. Taking a step forward, she wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, Chuck."

"Wait, there's more." He gently pushed her aside and reached for his bag. After shuffling through it for a moment, he pulled out two more wrapped gifts. "Okay, I did these without Ellie's help. You would not believe how much Casey made fun of me, but this," he handed her the larger gift, "is a scrapbook that I made with a bunch of pictures of us from when we were kids. Please don't make any jokes about me making a scrapbook." He chuckled at his own joke.

Sarah quickly brushed a tear away. She was never one to get sentimental, but being around Chuck made her feel like…such a girl. She looked down at the wrapped book, imagining Chuck sitting in his room in deep concentration as he glued pictures onto each page. She could see Casey scoffing from the doorway, and Chuck ignoring the bigger man's jokes, and she chuckled to herself.

"Lastly, I made you a CD," he said, handing her the last gift. "Uh…it's just a bunch of songs that remind me of you. I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will," she said, placing the gifts on her desk. Sarah stepped forward once more. This time, however, she stood up on her toes and placed a light kiss on Chuck's lips. "Thank you, Chuck."

Her lips met his again. She didn't care that her coworkers were staring into her office. She liked giving herself little reminders as to why she needed to do her part to keep Chuck alive.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, the link that I posted above and in the last chapter is Chuck's mix for Sarah. Oh, those two kids…

Thanks for reading! And I know I sound like a broken record, but I sure do love reading the reviews that you guys leave! :-)

So a lot of big stuff is going to happen in the next chapter or two (it depends on where I split it). I sent a long stretch of monologue to **mxpw** a few days ago to get his opinion on it, and he said he was moved. I don't know if he was being serious or if he was kidding, it's hard to tell over the internet, but yeah.

I thought it would be fun to give out a few more vague hints for the next chapter: McDonald's (gross), a Winnebago, Russians, lots of Johnnie Walker, someone goes commando (gee, I wonder who?), and someone says…wait, I can't give out the next part.

But I will say that I have been looking forward to writing the next two chapters since I started planning this story. I only hope that I don't botch it.

Oh, for those of you that liked it, be on the lookout for another chapter of _**Confessions of a Nymphomaniac Spy**_ (credit for the title goes to **mxpw**)!


	9. Commando Monday

**A/N**: Wow, who remembers this story? I guess I should apologize for not having updated this bad mama in forever, but I do have a couple of good excuses. My dog ate it. Not really. I suffered from a string of bad luck that started with leaving my window open on a rainy day, and frying the power source of my laptop. After I got it fixed, I suffered from writer's block. Severe writer's block. So pretty much, the reason for the delay is because of writer's block (something I said three times in three sentences. Yikes!). Thanks goes out to my good friend, **mxpw**, who beta'ed this chapter not once—but TWICE. Both times, he returned this bad mama to me in record time! He's super awesome, and he's helped me out so much, and listened while I whined about…WRITER'S BLOCK for about three hours a day. And an awesome thank you goes out to everyone who commented, sent me PM's, and really cared enough to ask about updates! It made me feel special knowing that you guys missed this fic.

Oh, before I forget, I should let you know that this is the beginning of a new arc for the story, so rest assured, any questions you may have will be answered in upcoming chapters! Thanks again!

* * *

**November 15, 2007  
Orion's Den  
6:45 PM PST**

Chuck walked down into the basement of his old house in Encino to see Carina, still in her Eisley gear. The armor had been coated with shiny, black latex and clung so tightly to her body that it revealed most of the muscle definition in her legs. Her usually red hair was covered by a black wig, and her light blue eyes were covered by brown-tinted contact lenses. The mask she was wearing was different from Chuck's. Whereas Chuck's mask had more facial structure and covered the entirety of his head, Carina's mask was lighter and wrapped around the back of her head, letting her black wig flow freely.

Chuck plopped the McDonald's bag down next to Carina along with the large Diet Coke. "Did she give you any trouble?"

Carina shook her head. "Next time, give me something harder. All I had to do was tranq the bitch and drag her here."

Bryce and Jill exchanged smiles. "Go change your jacket and put on your mask," said Jill.

"Why?"

"I told you that I was going to teach you a couple of things, didn't I?" asked Carina. "Today, I'm going to teach you some interrogation skills. Just ask Bryce. I'm one of the best."

"It's true," Bryce piped up.

Chuck shrugged. It wouldn't hurt to learn something that could come in handy in the future. "I'll be right back, then." He headed over to his office and quickly changed into his Osiris attire, sans body armor. When he walked out of the office, adjusting his mask a bit, Carina grabbed the McDonald's bag and drink, and led the way over to the holding cells down the dimly lit, concrete corridor. Chuck followed behind Bryce and Jill.

"Just stand there and observe the master at work," said Bryce, grinning up at Chuck.

He rolled his eyes. "I've seen the good cop, bad cop routine a million times in movies. I think I know how to handle myself."

"Well, Carina will most likely do things that could shock you."

While he tried to imagine what more Carina could do that would put him off-guard, she nodded at him. He stepped in front of Bryce and Jill to catch up with her. "When we get into the cell, give her these," she said, handing him the food.

"Yeah, I was wondering why you wanted me to get you McDonald's when there's an In-N-Out not too far from here." If they wanted to torture information out of someone, made sense to use McDonald's to do so.

Carina shrugged and stopped in front of a heavy, solid steel door. "After you."

Chuck adjusted the cup and bag and typed the code into a keypad. The door made a loud pounding noise and slowly slid to the side. He strode into the cell to see a familiar woman in her early to mid-thirties sitting, shackled to the steel bench bolted to the wall. Her right eye was swollen shut, undoubtedly by Carina, and her hair was disheveled.

He placed the food and soda down, next to the bottle of water that Carina had probably given her earlier, close enough for her to reach. "Hungry, Ms. Prince?" Carina asked, stepping in front of Chuck. He walked over to the side of the cell and watched.

Sydney didn't answer. She only continued to look straight ahead at the wall.

"No?" Carina took the bag and pulled out a French fry. "More for me, then." She popped the fry into her mouth and smiled coyly as she chewed.

_Step one, taunt prisoner with greasy food._

Still glaring a hole into the wall, Sydney groaned impatiently. "Where am I?"

"In a holding cell, stupid."

_Step two, insult target childishly_.

"Where am I?"

"You're somewhere that's eight hours away from Los Angeles. Far, far away from your team," Carina lied.

She reached over for the diet soda and made a show of inserting a straw through the lid. She took a long sip. "Speaking of your team, what are you all doing in L.A.? More specifically, what were you planning to do inside Legend Enterprises?"

Sydney didn't answer. Carina shrugged and pulled out the Big Mac box from inside the bag. She opened the box and took out the hamburger. She took a large bite and chewed slowly. "That really hits the spot." Her voice was muffled by the food.

_Step three, continue taunting the target by eating more of their food_.

Carina swallowed and took another swig of soda. She held out the hamburger. "Are you sure you don't want any? It's _really_ good."

Sydney ignored her once again. Carina shrugged and made her way to the end of the bench, out of Sydney's reach. She continued to munch on the burger with so much gusto that it even made Chuck hungry. And he hated McDonald's, so that was saying something.

"You know, I don't normally eat these things," said Carina, indicating to the half-eaten burger, while holding onto a fry. "I probably eat these once a year or so, but every time I do, god damn! These things are awfully tasty. It's a damn shame that these bastards are so bad for you, though."

Still, Sydney glared at the wall as if it insulted her mother.

"Oh, I am _stuffed_!" Carina placed the burger back into the box and set the food down beside her, out of Sydney's reach, but in plain sight. "Well, bitch, it's a shame you didn't want to eat. I'll see you tomorrow, sweet lips. Oh, and I'll be bringing my whip. So unless you're into that kind of shit, I hope you'll be ready to talk. If you still don't tell us what we want to know, don't think that I don't have nipple clamps."

Wondering whether Carina had some strange nipple fetish after that comment, especially after the fact that she had bitten his own nipple a few weeks ago, Chuck followed her as she left the cell and entered the code into the keypad. When the door shut, he pulled his mask off while Carina did the same. "What was up with telling her that she's been out for eight hours?"

"Mind games," she replied, taking the wig off and freeing her red hair. "By seeing the food, and thinking that it's probably been at least ten hours since she's last eaten something, she'll think that she's hungry."

"And you only asking the questions once, even more mind games?"

Carina nodded. "It gives her a false sense of security, but at the same time, she's probably freaking out right now, thinking that we don't care how long it takes her to give us the answers. Combine that with confusion, hunger, whips, and nipple clamps, she'll be talking within five days."

It was harsh, but it didn't mean that he wasn't impressed. He had assumed that Carina would torture Sydney physically for information. Mental torture was far worse, he realized. Bringing in a McDonald's burger made sense now. If he had brought in an In-N-Out burger or any burger from the local joints in Los Angeles, then Sydney would know that she wasn't too far from home. But by telling her that she was eight hours away, she had no idea where she was. At least, if she thought they were in Los Angeles, Sydney had the comfort of knowing her team would be able to locate her.

"Oh, good job in bringing her in, by the way," said Chuck.

"It was easy."

"Well, even so." He patted Carina's shoulder. "So what are you going to eat in front of her tomorrow? Burger King?"

She made a disgusted face. "If I keep eating burgers, then it'll go straight to my ass. Unless you're into cottage cheese asses?"

He chuckled as they walked back to the central hub of the basement. Bryce had his headphones plugged into his computer, most likely listening to chatter, and Jill was nowhere in sight. Chuck assumed that she had gone upstairs. Carina looked at him. "You know what I like to do after completing a mission?"

He shook his head.

"I like to have a victory screw."

He laughed. "Well, that's what Bryce is here for," he said, patting her shoulder once more and walked toward his office.

**November 16, 2007  
Legend Enterprises  
12:25 PM PST**

Somewhere in D.C., Sarah Walker knew she had a fan. That fan was called Stanley Fitzroy. Stanley was a young, short, and already balding man that wore glasses that looked like they came from the early 1990s. He worked in Logistics and Supplies and was Sarah and Carina's personal quartermaster. Essentially, Stanley provided them with anything they needed. Chuck would have called Stanley Sarah's own personal Q from the old Bond movies, only Stanley wouldn't be able to provide jetpacks and cars that turned into boats.

Carina would sometimes joke that Stanley had saved CCTV stills of Sarah and hung them on his walls. The redhead had a habit of overdramatizing certain things, but even Sarah was sure that that was what he really did do. It was both frightening and flattering at the same time, having a fan so devoted to her that he would believe anything she said.

She didn't want to involve poor Stanley, but she didn't have any other choice. December would come in fifteen days, and she was beginning to doubt that Osiris would infiltrate Castle before then. In case he didn't, Sarah had an escape route ready. She was going to accompany Chuck to New York for a shareholder's meeting. Taking him and running was her only option. But in order to do that, she was going to need a few supplies. In order to get supplies, she was going to need an untapped phone. Since she had tapped all of the phones connected to the landlines in the building, as there was a probability that the Ring would be placing their operatives inside Legends, Sarah couldn't use her office telephone. There was also a high probability that her own cell phone was tapped by Omega to make sure she didn't do anything rash.

So Sarah went into the break room, carrying her steel thermos mug. Her steps were nonchalant, but her eyes were dancing, flicking left and right to find her mark. And then she saw him. She didn't know his name, but in her mind, she called him Mouth Breather Guy. He was a rotund, short man whose breathing seemed to echo throughout the room. She spotted his phone hooked to his belt loop, and made her way over to the counter, while Mouth Breather Guy was fussing over the coffee pot. It was the perfect distraction.

Placing her thermos on the counter, Sarah reached with her left hand for a green teabag while her right hand swiftly unhooked Mouth Breather Guy's phone from his belt. While she brought the teabag up to her teeth to tear away the wrapper, she also pocketed the rotund man's phone. She placed the teabag into her thermos and then she poured some hot water. After dunking her teabag in the steaming water a few times, Sarah made her way out of the break room.

When Sarah returned to her office, she dialed Stanley's number. The dial tone rang three times before she heard a woman's voice. "Cobb Petroleum, this is Whitney, how may I help you?"

"Hi, I'm calling about lot number 888257."

"Please hold."

She didn't miss the humorous coincidence as _Born to Run_ began to play through the phone. Before the song hit the chorus, Sarah heard a shuffling noise. "Stanley Fitzroy."

With the best cheerful voice she could muster, Sarah said, "Hey, Stanley! This is Agent—"

"Agent Sarah Walker!" Stanley exclaimed, after an excited gasp.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you recognized me!" Outwardly, she giggled, on the inside, however, she felt like vomiting. Seduction was her least favorite method to get what she wanted. It was degrading for women to have to use their sexuality, or to appear dumb for the sake of upping a man's self-confidence. Yes, Sarah's roommate at Harvard was a liberal feminist.

"Of course I remember you, Agent Walker!"By the way Sarah could practically see Stanley gushing, she knew that she just made his day; his week, maybe.

"You are just too sweet," said Sarah, with a chuckle.

"Yes…well…what can I do for you today?"

She let out a breath. "What I'm about to tell you is above top secret, but I can trust you, right, Stanley?"

"Yes, of course you can!"

"I have a mission coming up," she said. It was somewhat truthful. "Deep undercover, and the Agency has no official knowledge of it."

"Okay…?"

She couldn't tell if Stanley was buying her story. Maybe she should have flirted a bit more.

"So why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"I need a few things, and you're the only man that can get them for me." Sarah decided to add another giggle for extra measure. "It's risky, though. If you agree to help me, everything needs to be kept off the books. But if you don't want to do it, I under—"

"I can do it!"

Just like clockwork, she thought, smiling. "You understand that no one can know that you helped me, right?"

Stanley gulped. For a moment, she thought that he had hung up the phone. But finally, he said, "Yes, I understand."

"Oh, Stanley," she said as flirtatiously as she could, "you are _so_ brave!"

"Ah, well," he said, chuckling nervously. "What do you need?"

Sarah began listing off supplies she would need. Chuck was going to be in New York. Mary's group was most likely watching his and Sarah's every move, so she needed to do something different. She asked Stanley to have a small motor home set up at a campground close to Mt. Poconos. They could stay there for a couple of days before driving up to Ontario. She also needed new identities for Chuck and herself. Chuck would also need a disguise since he was a fairly large public figure.

"I'm sending you a jpeg that I reworked," she said, uploading a reworked photograph of an older looking Chuck with a beard and graying hair. "You think you could provide the supplies for him to look like that?"

Stanley paused for a moment. "Yes, that should be easy. So you're going to need two sets of passports and ID cards?"

"Yes. Let's go with…" she trailed off, thinking of what nationality both she and Chuck could pass as. "Russian passports."

"Names?"

"Adrian and Natasha Ivanov."

"I assume you two are going to be siblings?" asked Stanley, sounding hopeful.

"It would be better if we were a married couple," she said. "I have to keep a close eye on him at all times, so…"

"Oh, right." He sounded slightly stung. "Then you're going to need a ring and some wedding bands."

Sarah didn't say anything. God, first, she forced Chuck to be in a fake relationship with her, and now, she was forcing him to be in a fake marriage as well? She frowned. It wouldn't be so bad. At the least, she thought he had feelings for her. Even a woman like herself, who most likely had the emotional stability of a seventeen-year-old girl, would be able to pick up on the signals that Chuck had sent her. Suddenly, she wanted to listen to the CD that Chuck had made her again.

"Okay, so we've got a small motor home which I will personally place at a campground on Mt. Poconos, ten sets of outfits, passports, ID's, wedding rings…anything else?"

Sarah thought for a moment. She and Chuck were going to need money, but she had money stowed away. The problem was, what were they going to do once that money was gone? Chuck definitely had money, but what if Mary's group was powerful enough to freeze his accounts? Perhaps he had an untraceable account? She sighed. They were going to have to worry about that later.

"That's it," she said. "Remember, you have to keep all of this off the books. I don't want you getting in trouble for being involved in this."

Stanley breathed in a shaky breath. He was obviously touched that Sarah was concerned for him. She was. Though, it was mainly for selfish reasons. She always hated manipulating people. "I appreciate your concern, Agent Walker. I can have all of this ready for you within the next two weeks."

Just as Sarah was about to thank Stanley, and flirt a bit more to increase his self-confidence, there was a light knock on her door. A second later, the door opened, revealing Chuck holding a travel suit bag and grinning. She smiled back and held up a finger, mouthing, "One second."

Chuck nodded and shut the door while Sarah spoke into the phone once more. "Thank you so much, Stanley! You're a life saver! When all this is said and done, we should go out to dinner sometime."

She could swear that she heard a muffled squeal of excitement before Stanley answered, quite coolly, "Yes, that would be nice."

Sarah giggled, while Chuck's grin slowly evaporated from his face. "Well, I have to get back to work, but we'll talk later, okay? Thanks again!" She hung up the phone before Stanley could respond, about to offer an explanation to Chuck. "That was just a colleague of mine. He's doing a couple favors for me."

She noticed that Chuck was attempting to smile, but it was more of a grimace. Was it a bit harsh that she was enjoying seeing him jealous? To be fair, whenever she saw Chuck with Carina, it made her feel uncomfortable. She was just giving Chuck a taste of his own medicine. It was childish, but in a way, it was fun.

"That's nice," said Chuck. He held up his travel bag. "You sure you don't want to go to Chicago with me?"

He was going to a tech convention to promote the release of his phone, and afterward, he would be having dinner with some of his colleagues. Sarah knew that as Chuck's girlfriend, she should go. But something in her gut told her that Osiris would be striking Castle soon, and she needed to set up some extra security measures. "I'm sorry, Chuck. I have a lot of things to do."

Chuck's face fell. "I see how it is," he pouted playfully. "Well, at least I won't be going stag."

It was now Sarah's face that was falling. "Carina's going to go with you?"

He shook his head. "Casey's going. Since you said you couldn't go, I decided to let him. He hasn't been doing much except for hanging around my house. I feel kind of bad for the guy." He rested his chin in his palms and sighed happily. "Now I know what it feels like to be a prom queen. Everyone at the convention is going to be _so_ jealous!"

Sarah chuckled.

"But anyway…" Chuck trailed off, his grin fading a bit. "Looks like I'm not the only one with a hot date lined up." He gestured to the phone.

Befuddled, Sarah raised an eyebrow. It hit her after a brief moment. Chuck was talking about Stanley. "Uh-oh, sounds like someone's jealous," she said teasingly, unable to resist herself.

"How could I not be?" he blurted out.

Chuck's cheeks turned a deep shade of scarlet and so did Sarah's. An uncomfortable silence began to fill the room while the two of them seemed to do whatever it took to keep from meeting each other's gazes. This was ridiculous, she knew.

"Uh…does my hair look okay?" he finally asked, breaking the silence, and running a hand through his hair. It had grown a bit in the last couple of weeks.

"I like it," she replied, glancing at the slight curls at the end of his hair.

"Okay, cool."

"It seems like you _really_ want to impress Casey," she said jokingly.

Chuck laughed. "No, it's just that I have to go out to dinner with a few colleagues of mine. Rich, conservative types are extremely judgmental. Especially when it comes to appearances."

**November 16, 2007  
Seasons Restaurant—Four Seasons Hotel  
Chicago, IL  
6:15 PM CST**

"Good God, Charles! Where did you get that suit? Macy's?"

The men around the table roared with laughter at Ted Roark's quip. From his earwig, Chuck could hear Casey, who was most likely in a storage closet somewhere in the hotel, listening in on Chuck to make sure he was safe, laughing along with the men. It wasn't even that funny of a joke, he thought, looking down at his Armani business suit. Because of his young age, whenever Chuck got together with his colleagues from different companies, they always picked on him. The last time he had met up with Roark, the old man had made quite the funny when he said, "What do you use to comb your hair, Charles, a chicken bone?"

Roark could be quite the comedian if he wanted to.

Chuck, along with three other men, had just finished his meal. Dan Gore, CEO of Gore Techtronics, a computer processor company, sat beside him on his right side. Across the table was Roark, CEO of Roark Industries. Burt Hasley, President of RI was seated next to Roark. And seated next to Chuck was Wally, which was quite uncomfortable in more ways than one. First, while Wally was tearing apart his steak during the meal, his elbow kept bumping into Chuck's ribs. They were seated about a foot and a half apart, which, in Chuck's opinion, was saying something. Second, while Chuck was watching Wally eat, he wondered how Sarah could ever date a man like him. The big brute didn't even seem to enjoy chewing. Thirdly, weeks ago, Wally had kicked Chuck's ass pretty bad because he was a part of Omega. The bruises had finally faded.

"Actually," said Chuck once the laughter died down, deciding to just go along with Roark's terrible joke. "I got this suit at Men's Wearhouse!"

Dead silence. How was that not as funny as Roark's lame joke?

"Nice try, Bartowski," Casey muttered.

"That's from a guy that everyone's predicting will bankrupt my company," mused Roark, chuckling.

"Aw, Ted, you know I wouldn't do that to you," said Chuck, swallowing his third glass of wine.

"Why not? If I were you, I'd do it."

Chuck tried to come up with a retort, but his mind focused on something else. Beside him, Wally was reading a text message from his phone. Chuck could make out the word "Architect" before Wally slammed his phone shut.

Wally looked up at everyone around the table. "Excuse me for a minute. I'm going to go out for some fresh air."

As Wally left the restaurant, Chuck made a show of looking at his watch. He was supposed to give Casey a heads up as to when he was ready to leave the restaurant, but he needed to follow Wally. Maybe he was meeting with the Architect? If he was, then Chuck could ID him, and put an end to Omega.

"Well, gentlemen," Chuck announced loudly. "I've got a plane to catch."

"Leaving already?" asked Roark, looking at his watch.

"Busy day—busy week, actually. You know how it is, gentlemen," said Chuck. "I mean, bankrupting RI is tough work!" The men around the table laughed as Chuck stood and extended his hand out to Roark. "Ted, as always, it's been a pleasure." He then shook Gore's hand. "Dan."

Chuck left the restaurant in time to see Wally turning left at the end of the lobby into the main hallway where all the ballrooms were. Quickly following Wally's footsteps, he heard Casey's voice ringing in his ear. "Christ, Bartowski, you were supposed to give me a five minute heads-up before you left."

"Gotta pee," said Chuck. "I'll be out in front. Just give me a couple of minutes."

Casey grunted as Chuck turned into the hallway. Although the convention was done, the hallways were still crowded with people. Chuck craned his neck to look for Wally. The bastard was gone. With determination, Chuck continued walking down the hall, observing his surroundings for any sign of the roided out man.

Finally, Chuck spotted Wally about thirty yards down the hall, stepping into an elevator. Ready to sprint after him, Chuck stopped before he could take a step when someone grabbed onto his arm. He turned to see an excited, round, and bald, middle-aged man grinning at him.

"Sasha? Is that you, my sweet Sasha?" The man had a thick, Eastern European accent. "Sasha!"

"What?" All thoughts about finding out what Wally was up to vanished, and were replaced by confusion and uneasiness.

The man had surprising strength, Chuck realized as he was pulled into the small ballroom. Loud music that reminded him of something from the _Fiddler on the Roof_ soundtrack played, but it was drowned out by the happy chatter of the countless people in the room. "Everybody meet fourth cousin on Mother's side!"

"I think you have the wrong person—"

Cut off by the man's arms wrapping around his body, Chuck tried to gasp for air. "Bartowski, what the hell is going on?"

"Sasha want to dance!"

Suddenly a group of people surrounded Chuck, all bouncing around him. Not knowing exactly what to do, he bounced and danced along with them as he brought his watch up to his mouth. "I don't know! Code…whatever the color is for being mistaken for some Russian guy's cousin!"

"Where are you?"

"No, no thank you!" Chuck cried as another man tried to force a shot of vodka down his throat. "Ballroom…" he looked frantically around the room. "Ballroom D."

"On my way."

The group of men and women continued to dance around him while the man who had given Chuck the shot of vodka forced another shot down. With his mouth full of the burning liquid, he looked around the room. All of a sudden, his head began to feel extremely heavy when he saw a tall, younger man with a shaved head.

**Tiger Tank  
Dmitry Siljik  
Black Market Arms Dealer  
Tiger Tank**

When that flash cleared, another one quickly followed when he made eye contact with a woman in her mid-thirties with brown hair and pale blue eyes.

**Scattered Papers  
Ilsa Trinchina  
Missing AP Photographer; Presumed Dead  
Rumored lover of undercover NSA agent, whereabouts unknown, Sugar Bear  
A quick flash of Casey  
Scattered Papers**

Chuck snorted, which caused the vodka to spew from his nose, which, in turn, caused his nostrils to burn. Ignoring the pain and tears that were streaming down his face, he chuckled to himself. Hard-ass, NSA Agent John Casey had a lover? Oh, that was priceless! Chuck had always assumed that Casey was built like a Ken doll down there. _Oh, Casey, you sly dog, you…_

For a moment, Chuck stopped dancing in time to see Casey rushing in through the entrance. In his mind, Chuck navigated the path that Casey was walking to see that he would be running into his old flame. He couldn't help but grin in amusement just by the anticipation of it. Excitement over love was one of many Bartowski traits. In Chuck's opinion, Ellie had it worse than he did.

Gradually, his amusement began to dissipate when Casey finally saw Ilsa. Instead of seeing a grinning Sugar Bear, Chuck saw a baffled, wounded man. Slipping out of the crowd so that he could get closer to them, he decided that he would play Casey's wingman although he had no idea whether Casey wanted to reconnect with Ilsa or not.

Chuck was finally close enough so that he could hear Casey's voice. "How are you alive? No one could have survived that blast!"

Blast? Chuck smelled trouble, and trouble smelled like some fancy flower perfume worn by Ilsa. As the woman began to tell Casey about how she lost her memory yet she never forgot Casey's face (really? This lady should write a young adult romance novel about a vampire or a centaur), Chuck wondered whether he should help Casey out or just let it simmer.

High-pitch feedback sounded from the PA system by the bar, once again, distracting Chuck. Looking across the room, Chuck saw a short man with gray, slicked back, greasy hair, and the facial expression of someone biting into a sour lemon standing on top of the bar.

"How everybody doing, huh?" The man held up his shot glass while the people in the room began to cheer.

For what felt like the fiftieth time of the night, Chuck felt a flash coming.

**An Oak Tree  
Victor Federov  
Russian Oligarch  
Mob, Parliament  
An Oak Tree**

Well, that would partially explain why there were so many people with ties to the Russian mob.

"First, I would like to introduce you to a woman who make me happiest man by becoming my wife," said Federov, "Ilsa Trinchina!"

Ilsa beamed and turned away from Casey and without a second glance, she stalked over to the bar. His mouth hanging open, Chuck turned to Casey, who appeared to be just as shocked as he was. However, unlike Chuck, mixed in with the look of shock, Casey appeared to be heartbroken.

**November 16, 2007  
Castle aka Langman Electronic Security  
7:30 PM PST**

"Here's what's going to happen," Sarah announced loudly to the room filled with analysts and guards. "We're vaulting off this room. The analysts are going to be working from the cubicles upstairs. Guards, you guys are going to spread throughout the building. Five guards on each floor. Ten guarding the doors outside this basement. No one enters the basement without Agent Casey's, Agent Hansen's, or my permission."

A scrawny analyst with short, mousy-brown hair raised his hand. Sarah nodded in his direction. "Yeah?"

The analyst cleared his throat. "Exactly why won't we be working in the basement anymore? It sort of defeats the purpose of having a base of operations if we can't even use the DU-97 supercomputer."

"Because Osiris is eventually going to try to break in," she replied. "The less people that know the access codes to this base, the less likely it will be for him to get in here."

From the corner of her eyes, Sarah saw Carina rolling her own. "So take only what you need. I want this station cleared out by morning. The only thing that stays are the database drives. Also, if you receive any new intel, hang onto it. As of right now, I'm the only person here with access to the database." Sarah looked around at all of the blank faces. "Okay, let's move!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

At once, there was a chattering of groans, a chorus of "Yes, ma'ams," and shuffling. Sarah turned to head to her office, and Carina followed after her.

"Do you really think these new security measures are going to keep Osiris out?" Carina asked.

"I don't want to keep him out; I want to keep him in." Sitting behind her desk, Sarah booted up her computer. She wanted Osiris to get into Castle. The second he tried to access the data drives, the whole building would go into lockdown. Then, she could transport him to Mary. "According to the engineers, even the best hacker in the world couldn't break through the new firewalls they installed in less than five minutes. That'll give me enough time to corner him."

Carina shrugged and sat across from her, crossing her arms. "Hey, what do you know about Sydney Prince?"

Suspicion was evident in Carina's tone, and Sarah couldn't understand why. Who the hell was Sydney Prince? The name sounded familiar, but Sarah was unable to a put a face to the name. "Who's that?"

"You're the one that hired her. You tell me."

Hired her? Her brows furrowed, Sarah thought for a moment. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I remember her," she said when she remembered giving Sydney a job interview. "She's a recent divorcee, and she wanted to start fresh." The redhead gave her a suspicious look. "Why do you ask?"

Carina shrugged. "I had to sit in a meeting for Chuck a few days ago, and I thought she was pretty hot."

Figures, Sarah thought, rolling her eyes.

"Do you know anything else about her?" asked Carina.

"I told you everything I know." She couldn't figure out why the redhead kept staring at her, and she couldn't help but feel like she was being accused of something. "And no, I didn't sleep with her," Sarah added.

"Of course you didn't." Carina leaned back in her chair. "You're too much of a spinster to do that."

"What can I say? These legs are only open to special customers."

"Hmm, is it safe to assume that you're wearing panties that say 'Out of business' on them?" She laughed at her own joke. "I mean, Chuck's too much of a gentleman, whatever that means, to say anything, but judging by the fact that you're always here every night, I'm going to guess that you guys have yet to plow."

On top of everything that was currently going on in her mind, the very last thing Sarah needed was to be reminded of the fact that she and Chuck hadn't slept together yet. Sarah glared at the redhead and let out a huff of air. "What goes on with Chuck and me is none of your business."

Carina's responding laugh was laced with glee. "You probably know, but it's rare for me to wear panties. If I did, though, they'd say, 'Open for business, especially for Chucky.'"

Determined to keep her cool, Sarah rolled her eyes. "See? That's your problem right there. Aside from being the world's biggest bitch seventy-five percent of the time, Chuck would never think about touching you. Want to know why? He's afraid of diseases."

"He's going to crack eventually. You're always cooped up here. The only time you spend with Chuck is for your little lunch dates. Meanwhile, Chuck and I are hanging out and getting to know each other." Carina's grin began to slowly disappear. "And since you're my partner, and partners are supposed to be _honest_ with each other, I'm just going to say it. I want Chuck, and not only so he can fuck my brains out. But when we do get together, there's going to be plenty of that going on as well."

Despite wanting to unsheathe her knife from her ankle holster and throwing it at Carina's chest, Sarah did the thing she knew would irritate the redhead the most. She laughed. As if on cue, Carina's face turned scarlet.

"What's so funny?"

"Do you really think Chuck would ever think about dating either of us?" asked Sarah. She meant to say, "you," instead of, "us," but it just slipped out. As the words settled between them, realization dawned over her. Neither she nor Carina were good enough for a man like Chuck. They had both spent the last five years of their lives lying about who they were. Before she came here, Sarah had forgotten who she was. And right when she figured it all out, her life as a spy had come back to bite her on the ass multiple times.

Carina still sat across from Sarah, and after years of being partners, Sarah knew that Carina would decipher what she was thinking through her expression—a look of sad realization that neither of them were good enough for Chuck. The redhead let out a huff and rose to her feet.

"I need to go pick up Casey and Chuck from the airport," she said, straightening her blouse.

"Right." Sarah let out a sigh of her own and turned to her computer to make sure everyone at Castle was following the orders she had given them earlier. She didn't need to look up to know that Carina had silently left her office.

**November 16, 2007  
Chuck's Private Jet  
5:30 PM PST**

When Chuck was at Stanford, one of his fraternity brothers was called Dirty Sanchez. The reason why he was called Dirty Sanchez was because, as Bryce once put it, "He looked like someone just smeared poo beneath his nose." To put it more delicately, Dirty Sanchez was constantly scowling. Chuck remembered the day he told Dirty Sanchez that a hardware company wanted to use LEOS as their primary operating system. He was so excited, but Dirty Sanchez's response was to scowl, mutter "Cool," and then grunt.

Somewhere between Chicago and Los Angeles, Chuck sat in a cushioned seat of his private jet. Across the aisle sat a regular Dirty Sanchez in the form of John Casey. Casey's scowl was fixed straight ahead, his eyes unblinking, as he held a bottle of Johnnie Walker in one hand, and a glass in the other. Music blared loudly from his large, late 1980s headphones, which, in turn, were connected to an old tape player that was also from the late 1980's. Even through the gentle hum of the engines, Chuck could still hear Neil Diamond's _Love on the Rocks _clearly, as though the headphones were clinging to his own ears.

Someone really needed to tell Casey that the 80s were over, Chuck thought. His eyebrows scrunched together. He'd seen enough movies to know that whenever a man was clutching onto a bottle of scotch as Casey was currently doing, there were two reasons. The first reason was because of unemployment. Since Casey still had his badge in his pocket, that certainly wasn't the case. The second, and the most common reason, was because of a woman.

Normally, Chuck would have let Casey drink in silence, but he just couldn't let the man drown alone in his sorrows.

He walked over to the bar to grab a glass. After dropping a few ice cubes into the glass, he made his way to the empty seat across from Casey and sat down. Gesturing a hand over to the bottle, Chuck flashed a tight-lipped smile at Casey.

Casey's scowl furrowed deeper as he pulled his headphones off his head. "What?"

"That's the only scotch on the plane. You mind?"

Rolling his eyes, Casey handed Chuck the bottle.

"Ah," said Chuck, pouring a bit of amber liquid into the glass, "a lot of scotch and a little Neal, huh?"

To Chuck's surprise, Casey smiled drunkenly back. "Just enjoying myself with a little R&R."

"No judgment from me, big guy." He took a small sip, feeling the soothing warmth of the liquid sliding down his throat. "So you wanna talk about it?"

"You're going to have to be more specific than that."

"You know, that Ilsa lady? The one that survived that blast, that, apparently, no one could've survived, and said she 'nebbuh fo-got yo face?'" His Russian accent needed a bit of work. "The lady that's getting married to a guy that constantly looks like he just bit into a sour grapefruit?"

"Thanks for reminding me." Casey held up his glass. "Here's to the happy, terrorist couple. Shit," he added. Apparently, Chuck wasn't supposed to know that Fedorov was a terrorist. Well, technically, he was like _the_ leader of the Russian mob, but all the same. Mobsters, terrorists, they were all bad people. "Pretend you didn't hear that."

"Didn't hear a thing," said Chuck, with a grin.

Casey grunted and studied Chuck, making him feel extremely uncomfortable, as though he was about to get interrogated. After a few minutes of awkward silence, and an impromptu staring contest, Casey looked away. Chuck couldn't revel in his victory because Casey began to speak. "I was engaged once."

"Twist," breathed Chuck in surprise. Although Casey had implied that he wanted to live a typical, American life, Chuck couldn't imagine a man as gruff as Casey was to live that particular lifestyle. "You were engaged to that Ilsa lady?"

Casey shook his head and waved his hand. "Naw, I was engaged to someone else almost twenty years ago."

What a stud, Chuck thought. "What happened?"

"I made a choice," replied Casey. He took another drink of whiskey and Chuck mimicked him. "It felt right at the time. Not everyone gets a chance to serve their country like people like me do. It was a great honor."

"Well, how does it feel now?"

Casey shrugged. "I'm not as young as I used to be. I'm getting at that age where I'm starting to regret…" he trailed off and shook his head. "I love my job. Always have. But…how much do I have in the tank? I know I've got a good five years left, and what happens after that? I can't see myself behind a desk, pushing pencils. And I definitely can't be out there in the shit when I'm an old bag of bones. What else is left for a guy like me after all this is over?"

Not knowing exactly what to say, Chuck poured Casey and himself some more whiskey. The two men sat in silence, tipping back their glasses, as the minutes went by.

He placed his glass on the table. "What was your fiancée like?"

Chuck almost misinterpreted Casey's chuckle for a grunt. Smiling to himself, Casey replied, "She was the toughest woman I've ever met, Bartowski. Not only that, but she was soft too. Made me feel comfortable in my own shoes, you know? The woman was one of a kind."

It seemed that Casey had a heart after all. Chuck nodded and smiled sympathetically at Casey. He felt bad for him. Chuck could only guess as to how Casey felt. He had to have been twenty-four years old at most when he made the decision to become a spy. When Chuck was twenty-four, the biggest decision he had probably made was choosing which cereal he should eat for breakfast. He guessed that Casey, while he didn't admit to it, made a rash decision without thinking of the repercussions, and he was now regretting it.

"She sounds like an amazing woman."

Casey nodded and took a drink. "She certainly was."

**One Hour Later**

After the equivalent of about eight shots of whiskey, along with the wine from dinner and the shots of vodka from the Russian douche-bag convention, it was safe to say that Chuck was quite drunk and giggly. Casey, who had had more whiskey than Chuck was intoxicated as well.

Sometime in the last hour, Chuck and Casey began to argue over which country revolutionized music more, the United States or Great Britain.

"Lynyrd Skynyrd was _not_ better than Zeppelin!" Chuck argued. "Yeah, they had a bunch of awesome songs; _Tuesday's Gone_ is one of the best songs ever, in my opinion. But come on! Zeppelin had like three great songs to every good Skynyrd song!"

"One word, Bartowski," said Casey. "_Freebird_."

Chuck laughed. "Seriously? _Freebird_? Even though I wasn't alive at the time, I'm pretty sure that when people first heard _Stairway _when it first came out, they had an out of body experience."

"Yeah, and the radio overplayed that damn song."

"The same could be said for _Freebird_." Chuck took a small sip from his glass. "I still can't believe you like Skynyrd. Haven't you ever heard _Saturday Night Special_? That's like _the_ anti-handgun anthem!"

"They were on drugs," said Casey while shaking his head. "They didn't know what they were talking about."

"Don't you like _Achilles' Last Stand_?" asked Chuck. "That song is so bad ass that it hurts my feelings!"

"Zeppelin is overplayed and overrated."

"They're overrated because they're _awesome_." He tipped his cup to his mouth and chewed on an ice cube. If Ellie saw him doing that, she would kill him. "I'm just saying, if The Beatles never came along, mainstream rock would be so different today. Also, if it weren't for Black Sabbath and Judas Priest, we probably wouldn't have bands like Metallica or Guns and Roses."

"Fine," said Casey, defeated. "But you're forgetting about the second British Invasion. Does Boy George ring a bell?"

Chuck grimaced. "I cannot stand New Wave music."

"That's right." Casey grinned menacingly. "Bands like Culture Club ruined music in the 80s."

"I'm not saying that every British band is great," said Chuck, while he frowned. "But speaking of the 80s, you know what's still a great movie, but _one_ song makes it seem dated?"

Casey shrugged. "_Breakfast Club_?"

Chuck shook his head. "That wasn't what I was thinking of, but that was an awesome movie too. I was thinking about _Say Anything_."

"I remember seeing that."

"Yeah, but _In Your Eyes_ by Peter Gabriel made it seem dated, you know?"

"Well, it did come out in the 80s, so…"

"Yeah, I'm just nitpicking," said Chuck. He remembered something. "That was one of Sarah's favorite movies when we were kids."

"Walker liked _Say Anything_?"

"It's a good movie," he insisted. "But we were probably eleven when we saw that. I remember thinking it was boring. Sarah liked it, though."

Casey grunted. "Good for her. I always knew she was smarter than you."

Chuck ignored him as, suddenly, an idea formed in his head. "You know what I should do? I should go to Sarah's later and _Say Anything_ her!"

"You and Walker had sex to that Peter Gabriel song?" asked Casey, frowning.

"What? No! We never—I wouldn't play Peter Gabriel." He would have played Oasis. "I mean, what girl that loves _Say Anything_ wouldn't want a guy to stand outside their window with a boom-box, playing a special song?"

"There would be a lot of girls that wouldn't want that. That's a restraining order waiting to happen."

Chuck crossed his arms and pouted. His feelings were hurt. His hopes were shattered. How _would_ Sarah react if he held a boom-box over his head outside of her window? Did he even want to find out?

**Two Hours Later**

Chuck could not remember the last time he had drank so much in one sitting. The bottle of whiskey was half empty. He and Casey still sat across from each other. The two men drank in silence, only speaking when they needed a refill. There was also a moment where Casey insisted that he needed to clean his Sig Sauer, which resulted in a good twenty minute argument where Chuck pleaded with the bigger man to give him the magazine.

Alcohol did strange things to people, Chuck knew. It was quite possibly the most unpredictable thing in the world. Sometimes, alcohol would make Chuck turn into a giddy teenager. Other times, alcohol would make Chuck silent, leaving him lost in his own thoughts. Tonight, it was the latter.

Casey had had two chances to be with the women he loved, but in both of those situations, he had the same problem. He couldn't tell either of them that he was a spy. When Chuck heard that, the wheels began turning in his head. All this time, he had had the chance to tell Sarah about the other him—about Osiris. But he didn't. It wasn't until Chuck heard Casey's stories about his fiancée and Ilsa that he realized that he could end up the same way.

For as long as he could remember, he had had feelings for Sarah. When they were children, neither he nor she would keep secrets from each other. And although he knew that it was different now that they had grown up (whatever that means, he thought, with a roll of his eyes), a secret like being Osiris shouldn't be kept from a woman like Sarah. She was a good person, doing great things in order to protect his country. He was doing the same, so why hadn't he told her earlier?

Carina finding out about him had been a fluke. By a stroke of bad luck, and due to his carelessness, she had stumbled upon his vigilante gear. Chuck let out a breath. He needed to tell Sarah before it was too late. He needed to tell her everything before she got reassigned, which was inevitable, since there was going to be no way that he was going to let the CIA keep him in custody. There was going to be no way that he would let himself end up like Casey, either.

He looked at the larger man, nursing his glass. "Did you ever think of telling Ilsa about what you do?"

Casey took another drink and placed his glass down. "Yeah, but before I could, she blew up. I'm certain that that bomb was meant for me." For a long moment, the larger man stared off into space, possibly thinking about the moment he had decided to tell her.

Chuck didn't know what to say to that, so instead, he pushed on. "So she never knew you were a spy, right?" Casey nodded. "Well, after you saw her tonight, did you ever stop to think that maybe she doesn't know that she's engaged to a Russian oligarch?"

Casey's hard expression softened to a look of shock.

"Think about it, big guy," Chuck continued. "Ilsa's a pretty lady, and maybe she was…I don't know, shopping one day, and that bad guy just happened to be shopping too. Maybe he saw her and was like, 'Wow, she's pretty, but she also seems nice. She doesn't look like the type of girl that would date a guy like me.' So he made up some story, and he won her over, and now they're getting married with Ilsa still not knowing who he really is!"

"God damn it, Bartowski, you may be right," said Casey.

"Yeah, probably!" Or he was probably just really drunk. "You know what you should do? You should go back to Chicago tomorrow, when they're getting married, right? And right when the pastor asks if anyone objects, you kick open the church doors, and be like, 'I have to see about a girl!' That would be _so_ bad-ass!"

Casey threw his glass back, downed the rest of the whiskey, and slammed the glass down on the table. "I'm turning this son of a bitch around."

"What?"

Wobbling to his feet, Casey began to walk down the aisle. "I'm flying this thing back to Chicago!"

"Dude, you're drunk! I'm pretty sure drinking and flying is a hundred times worse than drinking and driving!"

"So? Commercial airline pilots fly planes while they're drunk all the time," Casey retorted. "Read a paper."

Chuck stood as well, making him wish that he hadn't stood up as fast, as the cabin seemed to be spinning. He tried to focus on the floor as he spoke. "Casey, I'm going to have to put my foot down. You're not flying my plane."

"Damn it, Bartowski, I've flown F-15s for the love of God!"

"Yeah, I don't care. We've got like…" he looked at his watch. "Whoa! We're going to be landing in like ten minutes. If you _really_ want to stop that wedding, then I will gladly let you fly back to Chicago under the condition that you use the pilots. I'll gladly pay them too."

Casey narrowed his eyes, and growled. Chuck noted that this particular growl sounded very much like a bull mastiff's growl…maybe more like a bull mastiff that climbed up a very high, spiraling staircase. But he waited. He was sure that Casey could fly the plane. However, while he could afford to get a new plane, Chuck had grown very fond of this one; what with the built-in plasma screen, wireless internet, and an X-box to go along with said wireless internet so that he could frag his other fellow nerds in some good ol' _Call of Duty_.

"Fine," Casey finally agreed. "After I see that you get picked up by either Hansen or Walker, your pilots can fly me back to Chicago."

"You're sure you want to go back to Chicago? You've had a lot to drink."

Casey smirked. "Like you said, Bartowski, I gotta see about a girl."

Chuck nodded, and together, he and Casey waited. Fifteen minutes went by, and Chuck, still feeling the effects of the alcohol, was amazed by how quickly Casey was able to sober up. The big guy sat back down in his seat, dismantling his pistol and putting it back together repeatedly. Chuck guessed that that exercise calmed him down. Feeling grateful that he had confiscated the magazine earlier, he sat back down in his usual seat and stared out the window.

Whether it was because of the alcohol, or if it was because he didn't want to spend the rest of his life in regret like Casey, Chuck decided that he needed to tell Sarah everything. He no longer wanted to keep her in the dark. There was a high, shrill voice telling him that it would be a mistake to tell her. She could arrest him, and everything that his father worked for, everything that Bryce had given up, would be put to a halt indefinitely until Stephen could find a new candidate to replace him. And by doing so, it would be because of Chuck that another life would be put in danger, and may very well suffer the same fate (or worse) that Bryce had.

A stronger voice argued that Sarah was Chuck's life-long friend. She would never arrest him, not when he had so much evidence against Omega. She would offer to help him. While he didn't want to put her in danger, the voice argued that Sarah could take care of herself. She was always the stronger of the two. Whenever some jock wanted to shove him in a locker while they were in middle school, no matter how big the brute was, Sarah would always stand up for Chuck. It wasn't until she left that he was once again being shoved into lockers.

"You need her, Chuck," the voice said. "She'll be there for you. She'll keep you grounded—focused. With her help, you can take down Omega and get back to your life."

"But what life?" he wondered. Sarah would one day leave again. It could be tomorrow, it could be a week, a month, a year, two years, Sarah would eventually have to leave.

He pushed the thoughts away, as he and Casey made their way off the plane. The two men walked in silence into the terminal where he saw Carina sitting next to the Arrivals monitors with her arms crossed. Chuck turned to Casey.

"So you're really going back?"

Casey nodded.

Chuck held out his hand. It was a crazy idea, but what wasn't crazy when it came to love? "Good luck, then, big guy."

Casey stared at Chuck's hand for a moment, a reluctant look on his face. Finally, he let out a breath and took Chuck's hand. "Thanks, Bartowski." With that, the bigger man turned and stalked back out to the tarmac.

As Chuck began to walk over to Carina, she stood up with a confused look. "Where the hell is he going?" she asked.

"He's off to see about a girl," replied Chuck, shrugging. "It's a long story. I'll tell you later." They began to make their way to the parking lot, but he had a hard time walking. The effects of the whiskey caused him to stumble a few times.

Carina sniffed and shuddered. "You reek of alcohol. How much did you have to drink?"

About seven double-shot glasses, he thought. "Not much."

"You're such a liar." Carina chuckled when he stumbled into a metal rail.

Chuck ignored her. He had more pressing issues at the moment, that he was ninety-eight percent sure weren't because of the alcohol. He needed to talk to Sarah.

"Here, I'll take your bag," said Carina, stripping Chuck's small duffle bag off his shoulder. "So how was your trip?"

Chuck shrugged again for what seemed like the hundredth time. When they got to Carina's car, she plopped his bag into the backseat while he tumbled into the passenger seat. He told her about what had happened with Casey and Ilsa, and that was why Casey was going back to Chicago. After laughing, Carina drove on in silence. He desperately wanted to shut his eyes and let sleep overtake him, but even in his drunken stupor, he could see that there was something bothering the redhead.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Carina just glanced over at him. In the darkness, he could barely see her eyes. He couldn't tell whether she was really upset or if she was just tired. He waited for her to speak, and eventually, she did. "How come you haven't made a move on me?"

It took a moment for him to process her question, and when he did, he burst out laughing. "Is that a serious question?"

"Yeah, asshole, it's a serious question," she shot back defensively.

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"What's obvious?"

Chuck straightened up in his seat and cracked his neck. "You're with Bryce again."

"Yeah, and your point is?" Carina didn't take her eyes off the road.

"Bryce is one of my best friends! I couldn't do anything like that to him! The poor guy's been through enough."

"So if Bryce wasn't a factor, would you have made a move on me?"

"Probably not," he blurted out a little too quickly.

Carina made a '_tchuh_' noise. After a quick, disappointed glance at him, she turned her attention back to the road. "Why not?"

Chuck let out a sigh and rubbed his eyebrows. It truly had been a long night. "I don't know. I'm tired, Carina. Can we talk about this later?"

She ignored him, and pressed on. "Am I not your type?"

"Why do you even care?"

"I just do," she said, turning the steering wheel to the left. The car screeched to a halt on the side of the freeway. He tried to ask her what she was doing when she turned to face him. Expecting a look of annoyed curiosity, he was surprised to see a sad face staring back at him. "I don't know why you just can't answer the damn question."

"Uh…um…" he hummed, confused, and wishing that he was sober so that maybe he could comprehend what was going on. "Are you okay?"

She bit her bottom lip and turned away, leaning an arm against the steering wheel and resting her head on her palm. "Walker said something to me before I left to pick you up."

"What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter."

He frowned. "Well, obviously whatever she said is bothering you."

Carina sighed. "She said a guy like you was too good for girls like us."

Chuck gulped. Was that really what Sarah thought? That he was too good for her? She couldn't be farther from the truth!

"That's not true," he said quietly, all of a sudden feeling sober. He placed a hand on Carina's shoulder and gave her an understanding smile. "You know something? You spies are _really_ pessimistic and have massive inferiority complexes—thinking you're all damaged and stuff. I mean, first, there was Sarah being all mean to me. Then, there was Casey telling me that he pretty much left his fiancée because he was a spy. Now, there's you, being all upset over something that really doesn't matter. I get it, sometimes being a spy sucks. You have to do things that you never thought you would have to do. You've been through things that not too many people have been through, but guess what? Everyone is damaged. And just because you think there's no coming back from it, doesn't mean you're going to be damaged forever. There are ways to fix things that you feel can't be fixed."

She glanced up and gave him a sad, small smile.

Chuck gave her shoulder a tight, affectionate squeeze. "Seriously, Carina, I'm not going to sugarcoat it, you're hot. That was the first thing I thought when I met you, 'Whoa! She's hot!'" The redhead let out a giggle. "Not only that, but you're funny in a way that sets you apart from other women, you know? You say and think things that no one else in the world would think or say, and quite frankly, I think it's hilarious. Like when we went to Virginia, and you snuck into my room for toothpaste in your underwear? It wasn't funny at the time. On the contrary, it was quite scary, since I thought you were going to kill me, but now that it's said and done, I think it was cute. That right there says a lot about who you are. And I don't mean that you're a slut, or anything bad like that, I mean that you're comfortable with yourself. I don't know what happened to make Sarah say something like that to you, but don't bank too much on it. She's been known to say some mean things when she's provoked."

Carina smiled again, and reached up to her shoulder and squeezed Chuck's hand. "Thanks for saying that, Chuck."

"No problem," he said. "Another reason I haven't made a move on you is because…you know…Sarah. I'm in…I like her a lot, you know?"

Releasing his hand, she nodded. Then, she looked over her shoulder and merged back onto the freeway. For awhile, they drove in silence. He wanted to turn on the radio, but decided that that took too much energy. Spies, he decided, had some serious self-esteem issues.

Eventually, curiosity struck him. He turned to Carina. "How come Sarah said that to you?"

"I'm under orders not to tell you."

He rolled his eyes. "Secrets, secrets are no fun…" he sang.

"I was just being a bitch to her," she said. "That's it."

"Well, why were you being a B-word to her?" he asked, chuckling.

She didn't answer right away, and by the hard, unreadable look on her face, it seemed as though she would never answer. And so Chuck did the only thing he knew he could do to make someone talk.

"_Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_" he screeched.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"_Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_" he continued.

"Shut up!"

"_EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!_" he screeched even louder this time.

"Fine!" she yelled, as he smiled victoriously. "I was a bitch to Walker, because…"

"Be_cause_?"

"After you left for the airport earlier, I went back to the Den to interrogate Prince some more," she said. "I asked her why she was here and why she was planted at Legend. She said that Walker's Omega."

And the world around him crashed down.

**November 16, 2007  
Castle  
10:59 PM PST**

Sarah was sick of guarding Castle. It made her feel trapped, staying in her office all night, wishing something would happen. But nothing ever happened. She turned her computer monitor off and stretched back in her chair. It was the same, night after night. She spent four hours in her office, watching the security feeds, and then she spent about thirty minutes outside pacing in front of the building.

She left her office, walked up the stairs, through the lobby, and stepped outside. The air felt cool around her skin as she walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk. And she paced.

With each step that she took, she tried to block out what she had thought about earlier during the conversation with Carina. Instead, she kept her focus on hoping that she could capture Osiris before December came. She made it easier for him to get in. She spaced the guards out so that he would have enough time to get past most of them undetected. Once Osiris was trapped in the basement, all Sarah had to do was to give Beckman a call and have her men take Osiris away. But the only problem that she had was that she didn't know _when_ he would break in.

"Sarah," a voice called from behind.

Startled, Sarah reached behind her waistband for her gun, but as she turned around, she saw Mary standing about ten yards away. She released her grip on the gun as Mary stepped forward with three other men following closely behind.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"I just got a report from Beckman about your new security measures," said Mary. "Smart thinking."

Sarah eyed the three men behind her, and recognized two of them from the diner where she and Mary talked. The third man, she couldn't recognize. She turned her attention back to Mary. "So you came here to compliment me?"

Mary shook her head. "Well, that, and there's something else. One of my people was captured. We think it's Osiris."

"When did that happen?"

"Yesterday, and it happened in Los Angeles," replied Mary. "You know what that means?"

"Osiris is here."

Mary nodded. "I came here to let you know that we've tapped into Castle's security feed. These three agents—" Mary gestured to the men. "Are going to be stationed a block away at the Sheraton. Once you capture Osiris, Beckman is going to order you to escort him away. When she does, just bring him to my men."

"Right," said Sarah. She reminded herself that she needed to aid and abet this group in order to keep Chuck safe. "Well, I should get back inside. It's a bit chilly out here."

"Have a good evening, then," said Mary. "Just remember, Castle is being monitored by us."

Without bidding Mary farewell, Sarah turned on her heels and walked back into the lobby.

**November 17, 2007  
Legend Enterprises  
12:15 PM PST**

"Chuck," Carina called from his door, knocking on the doorframe. "There's a Kevin Flynn here to see you. He says it's urgent."

Chuck nodded. He knew that it was his father coming in to see him, and because Carina didn't know who Orion really was, he went with a cover name that only Chuck, and others who had seen Tron, would be able to recognize. "Let him in, then."

The redhead led Stephen, wearing a gray wig and a very convincing beard, into Chuck's office and offered him a drink. He declined. Chuck looked up at Carina. "Thanks," he said.

"Let me know if you need anything, boss," she said, winking at the two of them.

He waited until Carina walked away before he turned to his father, who was fumbling around with his watch. After a few quick turns and adjustments, he looked up. "White noise generator," said Stephen, holding his watch up. "In case the room is bugged."

"It is. So why are you here?"

"Carina told you about Walker being in Omega?"

"Yeah, and I heard it from Sydney last night, but I'm not buying it." It just didn't make sense to him. There was no reason for Sarah to work for Omega. "Do _you_ buy it?"

"It makes a lot of sense," replied Stephen. "I've been thinking, and her running into you at the Buy More, figuring out that Jill was Fulcrum, and being planted inside your company? That can't be coincidence. She's also leading the search for Osiris, and I can guarantee that getting rid of Osiris _and_ your company is at the top of Omega's list."

"Did it ever occur to you that it _was_ all a big coincidence, and that Sydney was smart enough to know that, so she lied to us to keep us distracted from all of the other things Omega might be trying to pull off?"

"It's too big of a gamble to believe that." Stephen glanced up at Charles and shook his head. "Carina told me that you wanted to tell Sarah that you're Osiris last night."

"I was drunk." He still had the hangover to prove it.

"That would have been a huge mistake, Charles."

"I don't want to keep her in the dark," said Chuck, taking a bottle of aspirin from a desk drawer, and popping two pills in his mouth.

"She could be Omega, Charles," said Stephen. "And if she is, and you tell her who you are, everything we've worked for—"

"Remember that time when I was…ten, I think, and I came home from school crying because someone in class said that the reason why Mom left was because I was clumsy?" Chuck interrupted, "Mom was gone, Ellie was at her friend, Julie's house, and you were the only one home. Do you remember how I was banging on your office door, and you just kept shouting out that you were busy?"

Stephen furrowed his brows. "I don't…remember that."

"Figures." Chuck rolled his eyes. "Not too long after that, Sarah came over, and she asked me what was wrong, told me that everything was okay, and that it wasn't my fault, all stuff that I needed hear. The next day at school, Sarah yelled at the kid. She made him cry and everything. You know what's strange about that?"

Stephen shifted in his seat. "What's strange?"

"Usually, it's the parents' job to comfort their kids, and if they're having a hard time at school, they usually call up the principal and make a complaint. Or maybe they call the kid's parents and tell them what happened. But you never did that. Sarah was the one that comforted me. _She_ was the one that confronted that kid." Chuck folded his hands on his desk. "So what I'm saying is that I know that Sarah cares about me. That's not something that I'm going to take for granted. Every day that I keep her in the dark, I'm insulting her."

"What if Sarah doesn't feel the same way about you anymore?" Stephen challenged. "What if everything that Sarah is doing right now is an act, and she's currently placing more Omega agents into your company? What if that's the case, Charles?"

"Then, I won't stop you from rubbing it in my face every chance you get."

"So you're willing to throw everything we've done in the last couple of years away?"

Chuck looked at the picture of him and Sarah from Halloween. "For Sarah? Yes."

Stephen sighed. "Charles, think about what _you're_ doing! When you get taken into custody, it's not only our work that's destroyed! Think about your company! You've got thousands of employees, and I can assure you that the Architect will appoint one of his agents to run your company to the ground! You're putting thousands of peoples' lives at stake!"

Chuck swallowed. He hadn't even thought that far ahead, but he recovered quickly. "I could give all of my shares to Ellie. She'll be the lead shareholder—51% of the votes. I'll tell her about Bryce, and she could appoint him to run the company if I get arrested. As for you, Dad…" Chuck hesitated a moment before speaking, afraid that it would be a cold thing to say. But he thought, to hell with it. "You've always been pretty good at running and hiding. You can get another team started in no time."

Stephen looked taken aback—hurt by what Chuck had said. Even Chuck was surprised at himself. The elder Bartowski cleared his throat. "So you're going to tell Sarah no matter what?"

Chuck nodded. "I have to." Even if Sarah turned him in, he knew he wouldn't regret it.

Stephen groaned in defeat and sunk back in his chair. He rubbed his eyes and then looked at Chuck. He looked tired and disappointed. "Before you tell her, I need the intel at Castle."

Chuck sighed. He didn't want to break into Castle, but he figured that if he was going to spend the rest of his life in a holding cell, or an underground bunker, he may as well get the intel for his father. At least then he'd still have a chance to fight Omega. "Fine. Carina and I will need a few days to plan everything out. I heard Sarah put some new security measures inside Castle, so…"

Stephen nodded. "So just…hold off on telling Sarah for awhile, please. I have to get…some things in order in case…"

"I will."

"Thank you, son," said Stephen, getting up from the chair. He began to walk out of Chuck's office, but then he stopped. "Listen, I want you to know that I'm truly sorry for what I put you and Eleanor through. Also…I'm proud of both of you."

As Chuck opened his mouth to bid goodbye to his father, Sarah walked into his office. He looked at his watch, and saw that it was time for their daily lunch date. When he looked up, his father was gone.

Sarah looked behind her. "I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?" she asked. "I think Carina went to the bathroom, so I just came in."

"Naw, it's fine," said Chuck, waving a hand. He forced a smile. "So I was thinking we could go out for some Italian today. How does that sound?"

**November 19, 2007  
Legend Enterprises  
12:20 PM PST**

Chuck walked into his office to grab his coat from the hanger behind his desk so that he could go out to lunch with Sarah. He was halfway there when, all of a sudden, he heard his door slam. Before he could turn around, there was a tremendous force pushing him forward, causing his knees to crash against his large, oak desk. He was doubled over across the desk. It all happened so fast. Something pulled him, turning him on his back, and the next thing he knew, a wave of pain surged from his elbows.

"You're still not checking behind open doors, Chucky," said Carina, grinning down at him. She was crouched over him, her knees planted firmly onto his elbows. He would have rolled his eyes at his own stupidity (since Carina had been hiding behind doors, even his bathroom door, and sneak attacking Chuck ever since they got back from Virginia) if it weren't for the great deal of pain in his arms. Her knees, very bony knees, dug into his elbows, which in turn were digging painfully into his desk "For that, you must be punished."

"You driving my elbows into my desk isn't punishment enough?" he asked, groaning as he struggled to get Carina off of him.

"Nope." She reached down and flicked him on the nose with her fingers.

He tried to roll his shoulder over, but it didn't work. "Get off me!" he cried.

She flicked his nose again. "How many times have I told you to check behind doors, Chuck?"

"Dude, your crotch is like five inches away from my face!" He looked up to see that she was wearing flesh-colored under—okay, she wasn't wearing any underwear. He slammed his eyelids shut, but that didn't stop his heart from beating a million miles per hour. "Why aren't you wearing panties?"

"It's Commando Monday!" she exclaimed gleefully, flicking his nose again. Chuck repressed the urge to sneeze. "I'm going to ask you again, how many times have I told you to check behind—"

She broke off when they had both heard the doorknob clicking. Chuck's eyes snapped open, and he did his best to peek around Carina so that he couldn't see her business. What he saw next was enough to stop his heart from beating. It was Sarah, pushing the door open and walking into his office. She stopped in mid-step when she saw that Carina was crouched over him. A look of shock, confusion, and possibly repulsion was drawn across her face.

The shock from seeing Sarah must have given him a newfound strength since he was able to straighten up with ease, causing Carina to let out a surprised yelp and fall to the ground.

"Ow! That hurt, you dick!" Carina cried from the ground.

Chuck paid her no attention. He looked wide-eyed at Sarah, pointing down to Carina. "That wasn't what it looked like. It's not what you think!"

Sarah's eyes narrowed into one of the most frightening glares that he had ever seen in his life. The temperature in the room must have dropped about thirty degrees. Or so it seemed. "Oh, really? And what was I thinking, Chuck?" Her voice was surprisingly calm.

Chuck cowered as she crossed her arms in front of her, still glaring. How can someone so beautiful be so scary? "Uh…I-I don't know."

"Well, what it looked like to me was that Carina was sitting on your face—pull down your fucking skirt!" she yelled at Carina. Chuck quickly glanced away when he saw Carina's rear-end as she was straightening up. Sarah exhaled slowly. "Okay, what it looked like to me was that Carina was sitting on your face with no underwear on."

"She wasn't sitting on my face!" he said quickly.

"What if someone other than me walked in? Hmm?"

"I don't—"

"What would have happened if they had decided that they wanted to make a couple extra dollars, and told the gossip mags and sites that you've been cheating on me? That wouldn't do well for our cover, Chuck."

The fear from before was now replaced by frustration. He thought it was over; her whole spy-mode game that she had been playing. But now, it came back. Only this time, instead of hurting him, it had frustrated him. "Carina, can you step out of my office, please? Sarah and I need to have a private word."

The redhead rolled her eyes and walked swiftly toward the door. There was something of a murderous flash in Sarah's eyes as they followed Carina, but Chuck felt relieved when she chose not to do anything. When Carina left his office, he imagined that she was inserting the earplug that was connected to the bug planted in his office.

"You want to sit?" he asked, gesturing to the sofas. She shook her head. "Fine. What just happened with Carina wasn't anything. I know what it must have looked like, but I swear to you that nothing happened. Carina's been teaching me some spy tricks in case something goes on." It wasn't the full truth, but it was still the truth, he thought. If he had checked behind the door like she had been trying to drill into him, then this wouldn't have happened.

"Oh, really?" Sarah laughed humorlessly. "Then how come when Carina was given a choice to leave and go off on any assignment that she wanted, she chose to stay here?"

"Excuse me?" Had Carina lied to him before? She told him that Graham didn't want her to get reassigned. "She told me that your boss wanted her to stay here."

She shook her head.

"Why would she stay?" he wondered aloud.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

Chuck let out an exasperated sigh. If he knew, then why would he ask the freaking question out loud? "How the hell would I know?"

"You really need me to spell it out for you? She wants you, Chuck," she insisted.

"Carina's with Bryce…" His voice trailed off. And she said Bryce was boring, he realized. Everything began to click into place; her need to know that if circumstances were different, would he ever consider being in a relationship with her. Oh, God, Carina liked him! How could he not have seen that? "Oh my God…" He felt like such an idiot.

He looked back up at Sarah who gave him a "what did I tell you" kind of look. Why on Earth would Carina have feelings for him? Oh, if this wasn't awkward before, it sure as hell was awkward now.

"I had no idea," he said breathlessly. "I just thought…I don't know. But Sarah, I assure you, I don't have feelings for her. I have feelings for you!"

Sarah looked taken aback, and even Chuck was shocked. He didn't mean to say that. Well, not yet, anyway. He didn't know much about women, but he was sure that telling a woman that may have feelings for him that he had feelings for her after she suspected that something was going on with him and another woman wasn't exactly the best time to let them know. And now, it was out in the open. There was no turning back.

"What?" she asked softly.

He let out a breath and met her eyes. "I have feelings for you. To be more specific, the feelings I have for you are much stronger than friendship."

The look of bewilderment was still there on her face.

"And I know this isn't the best time to tell you this, believe me, I do." He looked away for a brief moment and ran a hand through his hair before he faced her once more. "I'm in love with you. I always have been. You have…you have no idea how pathetic I felt. How pathetic I _feel_, actually. It's like I've been in love with you since we were kids, and you left, and I still felt it. I missed you so much while you were gone. Then, I saw you again in San Francisco, and we spent those five days together. You want to know something? Those five days were the happiest I have ever been. Starting this company and having it turn out to be a success doesn't even compare."

He gestured around him while Sarah continued to be in shock. "Chuck, you don't know what you're saying."

He shook his head. "The years went by, and I still found myself missing you. And just over a month ago, we met up again, and…I don't even know. At first, I was hesitant. We hadn't seen each other in almost ten years, and I thought that you would have changed. And you did. There were times when I saw your spy-side or whatever, and it hurt. Then, lately, you've been…warm. The more time we spent together, the more I would…fall for you. It's those moments, when I'm with you, I'm right where I want to be. I could die right there, and I would die a happy man. If that's not love, then I don't know what is."

Tears were brimming in Sarah's eyes, and she let out a quiet sob. Not realizing that he had barely taken any breaths in a while, Chuck could have sworn that he inhaled, but he didn't feel any oxygen entering his lungs. She shut her eyes and brushed the tears away. "Chuck…if I was somebody else, then…"

"Don't," he pleaded.

"Please, Chuck," she said, holding up a shaky finger. "If I was somebody else, then we could be together. But I'm not anyone else. I'm a spy. It was a mistake for my bosses to put us in this fake relationship—wait," she added when Chuck tried to protest. "That's not to say that I didn't enjoy any of it. I did, Chuck. I really did. But it's because of me that there are people out there that want to hurt you."

"I don't care about that," he said. He could care less whether the Ring was trying to infiltrate his company. Hell, he was sure that there were a couple of civilians out there that wanted to hurt him just as much.

"I do. I don't want to see you get hurt." He could see her bottom lip beginning to quiver. "Casey told me awhile back that I could quit being a spy, and it's something that I want to do, but…I can't. Even if I quit, there are going to be people out there who could recognize me. What if they hurt you because they want to get to me? I can't let that happen. It's happening right now, and I'm scared everyday for you. Once I take care of them, I'm going to leave. At least…" her voice began to strain, and she quickly cleared her throat. "At least, when that time comes, we'll be able to say goodbye." She began to turn the doorknob to leave his office.

"Wait!" Chuck swallowed the lump in his throat. He had his proof that Sarah wasn't Omega, and even if she was, she cared about him. That was all he needed to know. "I can take care of myself." He cleared his throat, still trying to get past the lump. "There's something I need to tell you."

She was already out the door. Chuck chased after her, maneuvering around Carina who looked as though she was about to go back into his office. She called after him, but he ignored her. Sarah was already in the elevator.

"Wait, wait, wait!" he cried, reaching the door before it closed. He held the door open. "Just let me say one last thing, Sarah. Please."

"This is hard for me too, Chuck." Sarah placed her hand over his.

"I know it is, but—"

"We can talk later. I promise we will," she said quickly, peeking behind him. "Your office is bugged, and Carina's standing right behind you."

Chuck looked behind him to see the redhead swiftly looking away from him to avoid eye contact. He felt a guilty tug at his chest at the sight of her, but he turned his face to look at Sarah again. "I really need to tell you something. It's important."

She stared at him, but he couldn't read her expression. So he took a deep breath. It was now or never, he thought.

"The man that you're looking for, the reason why you're here right now," he began, "I'm that man. I'm Osiris."

Sarah's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"And I know kung fu."

* * *

**A/N:** I couldn't resist putting in that line. Thank you for reading!


	10. To: Sarah Love: Chuck Part II

**A/N:** Hello, everyone! First of all, Happy New Year! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday, and ate lots of yummy food, and got to spend so much time with your loved ones that they don't really feel like loved ones anymore! Hehe.

Shameless plug: I wrote an AU of this AU called, **Lights That Lead Us There Are Blinding**. Pretty much, Sarah's mom never gets shot, so Sarah and her daddy never leave town. So, in short, I just used that as an excuse to write a parody/satirical high school fic, filled with many, many, high school movie clichés, and real life high school clichés. If you guys have the time, check it out!

Also, I would like to thank **mxpw** for the awesome beta work he did! Because the last chapter ended at such an evil cliffhanger, I really rushed through this one. So obviously, there were so many mistakes that I'm surprised **mxpw** is still talking to me! So you have **mxpw** to thank for making this chapter readable!

Oh, one last thing: Does anyone remember how Chuck handed Sarah a letter back in the first chapter when they were at San Francisco? And the letter came back in chapter seven right before Chuck's mom came to talk to Sarah? No? Yes? No? Maybe? Well…you'll see what happens in a bit. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**November 19, 2007  
Legend Enterprises  
12:35 PM PST**

It was difficult to tell, as she had been through a lot in her life, but turning on her heels and leaving Chuck's office was up there on the hardest things that she had ever done. The words that had come out of Chuck's mouth were everything and more than she could have ever hoped to hear. It broke her heart to leave him. She strode past Carina, and she could hear Chuck protesting behind her, begging her to wait.

But she couldn't listen to any more of it. It hurt too much. She wanted to stay. She wanted to tell Chuck that she felt the same way about him, but she had to leave. He wasn't safe with her here. Even if she quit the Agency, there was no guarantee that his life wouldn't be constantly threatened by Omega because of her. It wasn't a life that she wanted for either of them, and Chuck didn't deserve that.

"Wait, wait, wait!" he cried, as Sarah stepped into the elevator. Chuck placed his hand on the side of the door to hold it open. All of his emotions were written on his face, and it pained her so much to see him look so broken and desperate. "Just let me say one last thing, Sarah. Please."

She bit her bottom lip. "This is hard for me too, Chuck."

"I know it is, but—"

"We can talk later. I promise we will." Behind Chuck's shoulder, she saw Carina watching them, looking hurt as well. And there were the bugs that were planted in his office. What if Omega was watching Chuck like they were watching her? "Your office is bugged, and Carina's standing right behind you."

Chuck glanced quickly behind him, and turned back to her with a pleading look. "I really need to tell you something. It's important!"

For a long moment, their eyes met. Sarah didn't know how much more she could handle.

Chuck inhaled deeply and exhaled. "The man that you're looking for, the reason that you're here right now…" he trailed off, and looked down at his feet. Looking up with a determined, purposeful look, he said, "I'm that man. I'm Osiris."

Sarah felt the weight of the world crashing down on her chest. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs and all the blood had been pumped out of her heart.

"…and I know kung fu."

Sarah didn't believe it. She shook her head and fixed her gaze on Carina. The redhead stood behind Chuck, looking like a deer in the headlights. "This is a joke, right? Did Carina put you up to this?"

He shook his head. "In the past nine months, I've broken into CIA, NSA, Fulcrum, and the Ring's facilities. I have stolen over ten-thousand classified documents in the last nine months."

She exchanged a glance with Carina, who looked more petrified than shocked. Even Carina looked like she couldn't believe the words that came out of Chuck's mouth. Her body was shaking from head to toe.

Sarah felt a surge of anger and betrayal. Chuck—the same Chuck that she had known since she was a toddler—was a vigilante. Chuck was the man that she had been threatened to catch. He was the reason she lied in bed every night, worried for his safety. She hated herself, because she was compromised, and _he_ was the reason for that.

"You'd better be fucking kidding, Chuck," she warned, her voice surprisingly calm.

"I'm sorry."

She looked him in the eyes, glaring. "Do you have _any_ idea what you've put me through?"

Chuck sighed, and reached out his hands for her. "Sarah, I'm sorry that I—"

She swatted his hands away, furious and hurt. Without a second thought, she slapped him across the face. Shoving him away, she pushed the button to close the elevator doors and saw the remorseful expression on Chuck's face as they closed.

She never knew that anything could hurt so much…but it did.

**November 19, 2007  
Sarah's Penthouse  
2:25 PM PST**

Although it was November, the sun was too bright and too hot on her closed eyelids. She turned her body away from the window and rested her face on the unused pillow to her left. It felt cool against her skin. She was mentally and physically exhausted. Osiris had been under her nose the entire time she had been in Los Angeles. Osiris was Chuck…Chuck was Osiris.

But he told her he loved her, and she knew that she loved him. There was no denying that. But if he really loved her, he should have trusted her from the beginning! That was what infuriated Sarah. The fact that after everything Chuck said about him loving her, he still didn't trust her enough to tell her that he was Osiris. She understood _why_ he didn't tell her at first. She was a CIA agent, and she was supposed to bring Osiris into custody. However, they had spent so much time together in the last two months, talking, joking around, and she liked to think that they had had fun together.

The hours passed. The sun was no longer warm against her face, as she lost herself in sleep. But even in sleep, Chuck's words still echoed in her ears. And soon, before she knew it, the sun was gone and replaced with the moon.

What would she have done if she and Chuck hadn't run into Jill? She knew, while she stayed in Los Angeles, that she would have still wanted to spend time with Chuck. But would she have told him that she was a CIA agent? It was doubtful that she would. And while there were many differences between being a spy and being a masked vigilante, they still had at least one thing in common. No one was supposed to know who they were. So, even though it hurt her more than anything that Chuck didn't tell her who he was from the beginning, she understood why he hadn't told her before today.

Opening one eye, Sarah noticed that the top drawer of the dresser wasn't closed all the way. She hadn't spent much time in the penthouse, except to grab a new outfit for work every morning, ever since Mary had told her that she needed to capture Osiris. The sheets made a shuffling noise as she slid off the bed, and strode over to the dresser. When she pulled open the drawer, she saw the red case that held her will and the letter that Chuck had written her nearly ten years ago in San Francisco.

Prying open the case, Sarah took out the folded letter. On top of the fold, Chuck had written, "To: Sarah…Love: Chuck." She unfolded the paper.

**March 28, 1998**

**Sarah,**

**I just wanted you to know that it was wonderful spending time with you again. This week went by way too fast, and I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't fast enough. I really wish that we could have spent more time together. I don't know if you feel the same way, but I've been so lonely for these last five years. I guess that makes me sound like a wuss, since I've still got Ellie, but it's different, you know? I missed seeing you every day, and I missed talking to you. So what I'm trying to say is that, apart from the weird witness protection stuff that went on when we first saw each other, I'm glad that we were able to spend all that time together. I'll never forget this week.**

**Some people might say that it's unfair to part, after five days, from someone that they've cared about for nearly their whole lives. Maybe it is unfair, but it doesn't feel that way for me. I'm actually really grateful. The best times of my life were when we were kids, hanging out, and helping you with your math homework while you tried to teach me cursive. I guess what I'm trying to say is that seeing you again, and talking to you again, has been amazing.**

**I really hope that we'll see each other again in the future. And when we do, I hope that we'll be able to spend more than five days together. When that time comes, I hope that there won't be anything between us. If there is, I hope that we can figure out a way to make things work. **

**But in case we don't see each other again, I just want you to know that I'm in love with you. I'm sorry that I can't tell you this in person, but it's pretty scary, you know? I'm sure that there's no way that a girl like you could ever feel the same for a guy like me, but I just needed you to know that. I love you, Sarah.**

**Love, **

**Chuck**

Through tearful eyes, Sarah let out a chuckle. She had been a mess back when she was Jenny Burton, with her frayed hair, braces, and awkward skinniness. But it made her feel quite nice knowing that Chuck had always had the same feelings for her as she did for him, even despite all of Jenny's problems.

She knew what had to be done. There was only one obvious choice, really. She walked over to where her purse lay beside her bed and took her keys out.

**November 19, 2007  
Encino Park  
8:42 PM PST**

Chuck wasn't at his house. He wasn't at his office. He wasn't even picking up his damn phone. The last place she tried was Bryce's house, which happened to be the same house that Chuck had grown up in. When she walked up the porch steps, and knocked on the door, Bryce told her that Chuck wasn't there. Immediately, she knew that he was lying, so she told Bryce to tell Chuck that she would be at the park waiting for him.

It was surreal being back in Encino.

Sarah was sitting on a metal bench as she looked around the playground. Apart from new playground equipment—plastic slides had replaced the aluminum ones—everything was still the same. Or maybe it felt the same? She really didn't know. Although she had no recollection of how she and Chuck first met, since they were so young, her mother used to tell her the story all the time. A chuckle slipped out as she recalled her mother's story. They were around three-years-old, and Sarah wanted to play with Chuck in the sandbox. She took his pail, and in return, she let him play with her ball. When she threw it, she had thrown it too hard, and it bounced off Chuck's head, causing him to cry. Her mother would always laugh so hard when she got to the part where Sarah had given him a sloppy kiss, and he cried harder. That had led her into breaking down in tears as well.

This was where it all began. She sighed and continued to wait, letting the memories of her childhood flow freely through her mind. It was so much easier to be happy back then. They never did anything special. In fact, most of the time, all they had done was watch movies or play here at the park. There were times when Chuck had tried to coax Sarah into playing Nintendo or Sega, but those were rare.

Hearing a shuffling of leaves, Sarah quickly turned, her hand automatically snapping to the hilt on her waist. With the way things had been going lately, Sarah wouldn't have been surprised if Mary had randomly showed up to remind her that Omega would kill Chuck. But she let out a breath of relief when she saw Carina walking toward her. Usually, Carina would find a way to sneak up on Sarah, so that she couldn't hear her, but that wasn't the case tonight. Still, she found it odd that Carina would—okay, she finally realized. Carina must have known that Chuck was Osiris before her. It was irritating to know that.

There was no preamble. The redhead just spoke. "Why do you want to talk to him?"

Sarah flashed Carina a look of annoyance. "Because I want to arrest him," she quipped with an eye roll. "Why do you think I want to talk to him? I need to tell him some things."

"Like what?"

She wanted to retort back with a smart-ass remark, but she decided against it. "Is he here?"

"Maybe." Carina sat down on the bench next to Sarah. "What are you going to tell him?"

"Just let me talk to him," said Sarah. She reached for the knife hilt on her waist, and Carina quickly snatched her wrist. Sarah looked at her. "Calm down. I'm going to give you my knives, and I have a gun in my handbag. You can sit over there," she pointed across the playground to another set of benches, "while I talk to Chuck. If you're afraid that I'm going to arrest him, or hurt him, then feel free to shoot me."

Although Carina was in possession of Sarah's knives and her gun, she still glanced at her suspiciously.

"Carina," Sarah began. "We're partners. You can trust me."

"Oh, really?" scoffed Carina. "Then why haven't you told me that you're working for Omega?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "They threatened to kill Chuck if I didn't bring Osiris in. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't want you to get involved. What would you have done if they threatened someone you lo…liked?" She added the last word lamely. _Liked_? She quickly changed the subject. "It wasn't like you were honest with me, either. How long have you known that Chuck was Osiris?"

"Longer than you."

Letting out a dry laugh, she shook her head. "But yeah, you never told me that you knew, so I'd say we're even."

"Yeah, maybe," said Carina with a serious expression. "Listen, Walker, you really have no idea how lucky you are. Chuck's a great guy, so…don't hurt him."

It was always unsettling to Sarah whenever Carina put her serious face on, but she nodded. "I'm not planning on it."

"Good. Oh, by the way, I thought you should know that I deleted the conversation that you and Chucky had in his office."

"Thanks."

"One sec," said Carina. She took Sarah's gun from her purse, checked the magazine, probably to ensure that Sarah hadn't loaded blanks, and cocked it. "You do anything I don't like, I'll shoot you," she reminded. Carina placed a hand on her ear and looked behind her. "Come on out, Chucky."

Wearing a wire must have been her idea, Sarah thought. She and Carina nodded to each other, and Sarah watched as the redhead walked away. There was another rustling of leaves, and a moment later Chuck approached her with a remorseful expression on his face.

Sarah rose to her feet and Chuck began to speak.

"Hi," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Hey."

They stood in silence. Sarah knew why she wanted to speak to Chuck. She knew what she wanted to say, but the words didn't come out.

"I'm so—"

"So, I—"

They spoke at the same time. Chuck gestured for her to speak first.

"So Carina knew who you were, huh?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

Chuck nodded. "She found out by accident, though. In Virginia," he added. "I was tired, and she needed toothpaste, so she dug through my suitcase and found my gear."

Carina had probably broken into his room in her underwear, Sarah thought. "So why are you stealing government intel?"

"To fight Omega," he replied, and he began to explain to Sarah what Omega was, what they wanted, and what their goals were. "That's it," he finished.

She stood rigid as she flashbacked to the night she had gone to the docks to stop Osiris. He had been so fierce, appearing out of nowhere, taking out a handful of men, disappearing, and reappearing. And she remembered how he had taken a bullet to save her life.

"How…where did you learn how to fight?" she asked.

"That's a little tougher to explain," he replied. "In short, I have a computer in my brain. Yeah," Chuck added quickly as Sarah quirked a brow. "It sounds weird, but it's molecular encoding, and I'm able to…flash the information, and my body sort of downloads the fighting stuff."

His explanation meant nothing to her, but Sarah just took him at his word. "Omega sort of…recruited me, and your mom—"

"My mom's a double agent," Chuck interrupted.

"So is that how you knew?"

He shook his head. "Carina captured an Omega operative. She's the one that told us that they recruited you. But I…I didn't believe it. As for my mom, none of us have been able to contact her for months."

Still trying to process all of this information, Sarah sat down. She understood what was happening, and what Omega was about, but still, it was a lot to chew on. She gestured for Chuck to sit down next to her. When he did, she adjusted herself on the bench to face him. He still had the same remorseful look on his face, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was regretting telling her that he loved her.

He took a risk, though. Everyone else believed that she was working for Omega, but Chuck didn't care. He still told her how he felt, and what he did. That had to mean something, right?

"Omega's going to try to kill you unless I bring Osiris in," she said.

"I know."

"I'm not going to let that happen. I got some things put together so that…we can run away together. I've been planning it for awhile now, and I'm pretty confident that they'll never find us."

Chuck looked at her. "You didn't have to do that."

Like hell she didn't. "I wanted to. C'mon, as long as I'm around, I'm always going to make sure you're safe."

He chuckled. "I'm a bad-ass now, though."

"So am I." She grinned at him. "Two bad-asses on the run. They'll make a movie about us one day."

"Well, if that's the case, I want Jake Gyllenhaal to play me," Chuck quipped.

"Fine, then, I want…" Sarah trailed off trying to think of an actress who could play her in a movie.

"Sarah," he began while she continued to think, "There are no actresses in Hollywood that could properly portray you. No one's good enough."

Sarah blushed, but she tried to play it cool. "That is true," she joked.

They both laughed. Once their laughter died, they sat in silence. Sarah could see Carina watching them intently from across the playground. She dropped her gaze and stared at the small sandbox not too far from where she and Chuck were sitting.

"It's weird being back here," she said softly. "It makes me think back to when we were kids."

Chuck laughed. "Yeah?"

"Yep," she replied. "Ever since I came here from D.C., I'd sometimes think about what would have happened if I never left. I mean, would things still be the same?"

"You mean the spy stuff?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm sure I would have never been recruited by the CIA if I never left. What I meant by what I said was, would I still…feel the same way that I do about you now if I never left."

Chuck glanced up from their hands and he gave her a puzzled look.

"Because, after I left your office, I went back to my hotel, and I thought about a lot of things," she explained. "At first, I was pissed and depressed, but I started to think about stuff. If we never ran into your ex at Starbucks, I would never have called in for a background check on her. And chances were, we wouldn't have known that she was Fulcrum, so I wouldn't have told you that I'm a spy. In San Francisco, I wasn't completely honest with you then, either. But anyway," she inhaled a breath, "I understood why you didn't tell me about the Osiris stuff. Then I thought harder, and I read that letter you wrote to me in San Francisco. I thought about everything that you said to me in your office."

"Okay…"

Sarah squeezed his hand tightly. "I've always felt that way about you. I _still_ feel that way about you. You mean…a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me, too," said Chuck, brushing his thumb against hers.

Sarah let out a soft laugh. "You know what's crazy?"

Chuck shrugged.

She pointed to the sandbox. "My mom told me that that's where we met when we were kids."

"Yeah, she told me the story," he said, laughing. "A long time ago. You made me cry."

"You made me cry too."

"Did I?" he asked with a frown. "I never heard that part."

"Yep," she said, nodding. "I felt bad that I hurt you, so I gave you a kiss. That made you cry harder, so I started to cry."

"Yikes."

"So it makes a girl wonder. If I kissed you again right now, would I end up crying?"

"I guess there's only one way to find out."

She smiled bashfully. It felt wonderful getting everything out in the open. Sure, her declaration hadn't been as elegant as Chuck's, but Sarah was never really good at expressing herself through words. She pulled on Chuck's hand so that his arm wrapped around her as she leaned in close to him. Giving Chuck a meaningful look, Sarah began to move in closer to his face.

"Hey!" Carina yelled, causing Sarah and Chuck to jump back in surprise.

Sarah contorted her face as the redhead ran toward her and Chuck. "What the hell?" Sarah shouted, flinging her arms up in exasperation.

"Oh, I was getting bored," replied Carina. "Plus, for a second, I thought you were going to bite Chucky, so…"

Sarah just shook her head and exchanged an annoyed glance with Chuck.

"Anyway, Walker, since you're in the know, now, how about you give Chucky and me the access code to the vault?" Carina snuggled in between Sarah and Chuck. "We need that intel."

Sarah slid away from Carina. "I already have something figured out."

**November 19, 2007  
Castle  
11:30 PM PST**

The alarms blared deafeningly, and her office was flashing red lights. Cursing, Sarah, pulled her S&W from her holster and ran out into the control room. She began to type in the access code for the surveillance feeds. When the main monitor came to life, showing the black and white videos from the cameras around the building, she quickly scanned through each of the feeds.

Her eyes danced around the screen, scanning through each camera for a sign of Chuck. And she saw him on the floor above hers, jumping down from the vent, landing in the middle of a group of guards. It was a smart move since none of the guards would be able to shoot at him in fear that they would miss and hit one of their partners. He brandished out his tranq pistols, flipped them so that he could hold onto the barrels, and swung his arms to the side so that the butt of the guns landed against two of the guards' necks. They fell to the ground, and Chuck ducked beneath a rifle, narrowly avoiding being hit. He quickly smacked the guard with the butt of his gun in the thigh, and soon after, the guard was knocked out. He must have injected him with something, she thought.

It was surreal watching this all unfold, knowing that it was Chuck behind the mask. Never in her life had she imagined that he could be capable of something like this.

When all the guards fell, she watched as Chuck began tapping at the computer on his wrist, trying to break through the code so that he could enter the database room. Sarah turned away from the screen, and she ran, bursting through the door. And finally, for the second time, she was face to face with the masked man. Through the eye holes of his mask, she could see the look of surprise in them. With her gun pointed at his chest, she spoke, "You're coming with me."

He was breathing heavily, and he took a step back. Every time he exhaled, Sarah could hear the quiver in his breath. She flicked her head back, intentionally, to let him know that there was a surveillance camera behind her. Chuck blinked twice to let her know that he understood.

"I need you to drop your weapons," she said. Even though her heart was beating rapidly, her voice was calm and firm.

Chuck flicked both of his wrists, and the guns flew out from his sleeves. He placed them on the ground.

"Hands on your head." With one hand still pointing her gun at him, the other reached behind for a pair of handcuffs. "Turn around slowly." And he did. Sarah approached him and grabbed one of his wrists. As softly as she could, she whispered, "You have to resist. Now."

But he didn't do anything. With the knowledge that Omega was watching her, she had no choice but to lock one of the cuffs around his wrist. What was he doing? Suddenly, Chuck grabbed onto one of her wrists with his free hand. On instinct, she twisted her arm out of his grasp, and she went in with a left hook. He ducked underneath her fist. She anticipated him to make an attempt to fight back, but he didn't.

"Sell it, Chuck," she mouthed. She tried to punctuate the statement with her eyes.

With a hesitating look, he swung his right fist, and she caught it. She twisted his arm, and pulled him close to her. "You have to sell it better than that," she said softly. Using his momentum, or at least appearing to do so, he twisted her. Since he didn't use his full strength, Sarah had to flip herself around so that she would fall on the ground. "Snap kick," she warned. She kicked her right leg out, making it appear that it made contact with his face.

He fell back. She feared that he would look like he was overselling her kick, but she reacted quickly. She saddled him, and began to turn him on his stomach. At least, this time, he was resisting so it took quite an effort to turn him. She kneed him in the stomach and that was all she needed to do. He was lying face down. She grabbed onto his other wrist and cuffed his hands behind his back.

**November 20, 2007  
Sheraton Hotel  
12:05 AM PST**

She shoved Chuck into Room 302 where three Omega agents were waiting for her.

"It's done," she said. "I've brought you Osiris. Now, leave Chuck and me the hell alone."

"Agent Bartowski will contact you in twelve hour's time," said an operative with a shaved head. He grabbed Chuck roughly and pulled him down to the ground. "You've done good work, Agent Walker."

Sarah headed toward the door to leave the room, but stopped when she heard a crashing metal noise. A black figure, with flowing black hair jumped out of the air vent on the ceiling, and crashed down on the operative with the shaved head. The figure slammed the butt of her pistol against him, and Sarah watched as his eyes began to fade. Immediately, the figure shot two darts, rendering the other two agents unconscious. And before Sarah had the time to react, she felt a pinch on her arm. There was no warning, Sarah just fell.

**November 20, 2007  
Chuck's House  
3:34 AM PST**

Sarah kneeled down and began picking at the lock to the front door of Chuck's house. After she had woken up from the tranq dart, it had felt like she had the worst hangover of her life. When she heard the click, she gently pushed open the door. Normally, it was a cakewalk sneaking into someone's home, but because of getting tranqed, she was louder than she wanted to be as she shut the door.

She walked down the foyer, and was ready to head up the stairs when she saw a flickering light in the living room. Knowing that that was where Chuck was, she changed her direction and went toward the living room. The TV was on, a little MUTE icon on the corner of the screen, but Chuck wasn't in there.

"Was it really necessary for you to sneak in?" a voice asked from behind, startling her. "You could have knocked."

Sarah turned around and saw Chuck leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

She grinned and he did as well. Pulling a flash-drive from her pocket, she strode over to Chuck and handed it to him.

It was her plan to have Chuck and Carina break into Castle earlier that night. Since Omega didn't know that the redhead was a part of Chuck's team, Sarah made it seem like she didn't either, which gave Carina the perfect opportunity to shoot her from behind. She hoped that this would buy her more time to properly plan her and Chuck's escape.

"Is this all of the data?" asked Chuck, while he stared at the flash-drive.

She nodded.

"Thank you," he said, smiling.

Sarah smiled back. "I'm mad at you, you know."

"Why?" he asked with a frown.

"You said that I wouldn't get a hangover from the tranq dart," she replied. "But guess what? My head hurts like a son of a bitch."

Looking apologetic, Chuck sprang into a series of apologies and explanation. "I'm so sorry! I guess Carina loaded the darts with a stronger dose of sedatives by accident!"

"Naw, I don't think it was an accident." It was probably safe to say that the redhead was very pissed off, and Sarah didn't blame her. If Sarah was in Carina's situation, she probably would have loaded the stronger tranqs as well. "So have you talked to Carina at all? About…you know?"

He shrugged. "I tried to apologize, but I don't know. I think she understands deep down. I wouldn't say she's cool with it, though."

Sarah was never a gloater, so she genuinely felt bad for Carina. But Carina had known longer than she had about Chuck's secret, and she had purposely loaded her gun with a stronger sedative, so Sarah didn't feel _too_ bad for her.

"She'll get over it eventually," she said. She grabbed both of Chuck's hands with hers. "Speaking of Carina, I couldn't tell you this earlier, since she was there, but…" she trailed off as she looked him in the eyes and smiled. Her thumbs brushed against his before she released his hands. She ran her fingers up along the buttons on Chuck's shirt before she wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. In turn, his arms were wrapped around the small of her back as she stood on her tiptoes. With their lips less than an inch apart, Sarah looked into his eyes. "I love you, too," she whispered. "I always have."

Replying with a grin, Chuck finally obliged her by moving closer. At first, the kiss was soft, delicate. As the seconds went on, however, it became deeper and more deliberate. It used to be, whenever they had kissed before, Sarah was timid. She had never really figured out why. It may have been because of the voice that told her that it was all for the cover.

But tonight, it was different. She was definitely not timid. Her hands slid down from his neck. She felt his hands pressing against her hips and he turned so that she was trapped between his body and the wall. She hooked her fingers around the belt loops of his pants.

Her hands slid up from the belt loops, and she brought them up under his shirt, causing it to bunch just below his ribcage. His body was warm, and she wondered why she hadn't done this before.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk more?" he asked against her mouth.

"I think we've covered all the bases," she said, kissing him again and tasting his lips.

Her hands slid further up to his chest, and she felt the thumping of his heart. Chuck's hands moved down her hips, and she let out a surprised gasp as he picked her up. She recovered quickly, wrapping her legs around his body. As she wrapped her arms once more around his neck, he pulled away slightly.

As he gently laid her on the couch, Sarah pulled him down closer to her, and she felt the weight of him against her. Her hands started to unbutton his shirt as he began to pull her own shirt up. When their lips pulled apart, she made quick work of shedding off her own shirt so that she could get back to kissing him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she knew that this was where she wanted to be.

**November 20, 2007  
En Route to Orion's Cabin  
12:32 PM PST**

Sarah couldn't remember if she had ever been this elated before. As Carina drove them in Chuck's Mercedes SUV (he certainly had a lot of cars), Sarah leaned comfortably against Chuck in the backseat of the car. His arms were wrapped around her torso, with his fingers wrapped around hers.

Earlier that day, Orion had called Chuck and told him to bring Sarah and Carina over to his cabin to have a discussion about her plans for keeping Chuck safe from Omega. The only choice they had now, since, obviously, she couldn't turn Osiris into Omega, was for the two of them to go on the lam. They all needed to collaborate on where they should go and what they should do.

"You know, as happy as I am that you guys are boning now, you really don't have to rub it in my face," Carina called from the driver's seat. "I get it. You guys are fucking like rabbits."

Sarah shrugged. "So?" she retorted childishly. "At least we don't get down and dirty in front of you, like you did back when we were at the Farm. Remember how we shared a room, and you just _had_ to bring in that Blake guy?"

Carina rolled her eyes. "That's different! At least, back then, you didn't _want_ to fuck Blake. As for me, I still want to fuck Ch—"

"So how about this weather, huh?" Chuck interceded. Sarah felt him squirm uncomfortably behind her as he stared out at the rain. "I can't remember the last time it rained this much. Global warming…"

"Chuck," Carina finished.

"What do you want me to say to that?" asked Sarah, trying to hold in her laughter.

"Nothing. Just quit rubbing it in my face! I swear to God, you have this look on your face that looks like you're going to burst into a song called 'I fucked Chuck.'"

"It sort of rhymes, so…" Sarah turned her head to wink at Chuck. His face was scarlet, but he continued to stare out the window.

"Professional courtesy, Walker," said Carina. "How big is ol' Chucky, anyway?"

Chuck coughed loudly. "I heard the funniest joke yesterday!" he cried loudly, obviously desperate to change the subject. "Two guys walk into a bar, and—how is that professional courtesy?"

"At the very least, I think I have the right to know," said Carina with a shrug. "Chucky didn't even have the decency to practice on me before Walker, so…"

Sarah laughed, while Chuck continued to squirm and whimper. She patted his knee. "Just ignore her," she told him. "She's just messing with you. Am I right, Carina?"

"Sure, okay," Carina halfheartedly replied. "But anyway, what's Orion like, Chuck?"

"Wait—you've never met Orion?" Sarah asked, looking from Chuck to Carina. It seemed odd for Carina to have not met Orion after she had been a part of his team for almost two months now.

Chuck shook his head. "He's all sorts of paranoid," he replied. "There's something about him. And, let's see, oh, everything has to be done his way, and no matter how much you try to argue you with him, chances are, you're going to lose that argument. Oh, and he's my dad."

"He's your _dad_?" she and Carina echoed in unison.

"Yep," he replied. "It's sort of a long story."

"We've got a good ten minute drive ahead of us," said Carina. "Do tell, Chuckles."

"Okay, well," he turned to Sarah. "Do you remember when my mom left? Well, Omega got to her. That's why she left, because she didn't want our family to be involved. Anyway, since she used to be a spy, my dad thought that the CIA had something to do with her leaving. So for a couple of years, he tried to find out what was up, you know? He figured out a way to hack into government databases, and with all that data, he started building the Intersect. Omega somehow got wind of that information, and they wanted that technology for themselves. Before they were able to get to my dad, my mom warned him. And that's why he ran."

"Wait, then how come Omega didn't use you and your sister to bait him out?" asked Carina.

"I'm thinking they figured that if a father leaves his two kids behind, then he must not have cared too much about them," replied Chuck. "Not only that, but my mom was pretty high up in the leadership. She was the deputy director, and led the biggest team that Omega had, so that's probably another reason why they never came after us."

Sarah looked sympathetically at Chuck. Although he tried to be nonchalant when telling the story of his parents, she still heard a small strain in his voice. He looked back with a smile and kissed her forehead.

"How many operatives has Omega planted in the CIA?" she asked.

"It's hard to tell," he said. "These days, with all of the different agencies recruiting kids from colleges, it would be easy for Omega to steal the list of the CIA candidates from all of the schools and get to them. But now, they're mostly planting their agents inside large corporations."

"Like Sydney."

Chuck nodded. "On the positive side, it's going to take a couple of years, at least, to bankrupt a huge company. They'll probably start off with a few scandals, like insider trading, faulty manufacturing that require recalls, stuff like that, to make the stocks dip a few points. So we've still got some time, but in order to take Omega out, we need to figure out who the Architect is. Once we do that, we can get the names of the people in the chain of command, you know? And that's when we start working with the government to take them out."

Out of fear for Chuck's circulation, Sarah released his hands and readjusted herself so that she was no longer leaning into him. "So, for right now, you're just playing it close to the vest."

Carina sighed loudly. Sarah stared at the rearview mirror to see that Carina was looking very irritated. She knew that it was hard for Carina to see her and Chuck like this—to see the man that she had feelings for with someone else.

* * *

When Sarah was a child, still living close to Chuck, she had rarely seen Stephen. Whenever she did, he was friendly enough, but he was always busy doing God knows what. It'd been almost fifteen years since she last saw the man, and apart from a few frown lines, he hadn't aged much. He remained quiet, looking thoughtful, as Sarah explained how Mary had made contact with her, and how she was told that she had to bring Osiris in to protect Chuck's life. She had just finished telling him about her plans to run away with Chuck, after his shareholder's meeting in New York, when he held up a hand.

"It's a brilliant plan, Sarah," said Stephen. "But the problem with your plan is that you involved someone that works with you. Stanley Fitzroy, was it?"

Sarah nodded.

"The thing that you don't know is that because of Fulcrum and the Ring, every single government employee's lines are tapped," he said. "It was a good move using someone else's phone to contact Mr. Fitzroy, but even if he believed that he had cleared the conversation from the records, it's been recorded. So eventually, people are going to find out about the new identities that you've created for yourselves."

"Even if that happens, Chuck and I would still have at least month's head start at the least," she persisted. "By that time, we could create new identities."

Stephen crossed his arms and nodded. "That's true, but you're also forgetting that Charles is very recognizable across the globe. Disguises can only do so much. We also have his company to worry about—"

"I can give all of my shares to Ellie and Bryce," Chuck interrupted. "I don't want to involve her in this, but at least we can still have control over Legend."

"If you transfer your shares to them, then Omega will know something is up," said Sarah. "That'll put your sister in a lot of danger."

"That's right," said Stephen.

"Then how do we proceed?" she asked. "I get why it's important to keep one of you guys in control of Legends, but Omega is still going to try to kill Chuck."

Stephen frowned, and again, he looked lost in thought. He looked at Chuck. "Charles, do you have a will filled out?"

He nodded cautiously. "Yeah. Pretty much, everything is left to Ellie. Why?"

"You could fake your own death," said Stephen. "That way, you could still help fight Omega, and you could remain in one place rather than trotting around the globe for the rest of your life."

"Yeah, but he'll be shut in for the rest of his life if we go that route," Sarah argued. She wasn't going to let Chuck get holed up underground, only to come out when he needed to go on a mission. "That is the most ridiculous thing that I have ever heard! Even when Omega's shut down, he'd still have to be holed up! At least, if we run, Chuck could be free the moment that Omega's out of the equation!" She took a deep breath to calm herself down. Chuck stared at her with an astonished look. "We have over a week to come up with a new plan. That gives us plenty of time to create new identities, create an escape route, and we could still fight Omega. After a period of time, he could be legally declared dead, and Ellie gets the shares to the company."

"But Omega will know that I'm not dead, and they'll try to get to Ellie anyway," said Chuck.

Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but Carina finally spoke. "NSA incinerator."

"What?"

"The Terror Alert is high this time of year, and Chucky's going to New York City," she explained. "NSA incinerators are easily attainable through the black market, but not only that, they leave no traces of DNA behind. While Chuck's in New York, we could just plant one in his car, and on a few other empty cars. We can put an opening beneath his car so that he can get out before it detonates. It could look like a terrorist attack. Chuck and Sarah can go into hiding for awhile, fight Omega, and his sister can still run the company and be safe. After Omega's gone, then you guys can come out of hiding. Sarah tells the truth about how Omega threatened Chuck, and everything goes back to the way it was. Obviously, more stuff needs to be planned, but yeah…"

Sarah exchanged a wary glance with Chuck, but there was no other way. If they ran, Chuck would live, but Ellie would be under threat. If Chuck faked his death, he'd have to remain hidden, but at least, he wouldn't have to worry about Ellie, and he would know that once Omega was gone, he'd be free to come out of hiding. But how many years would that take?

"Yeah, that sounds doable," said Chuck. He was still looking at her. "What do you think, Sarah?"

She really regretted being unable to control her emotions when the paparazzi were snapping her and Chuck's pictures outside Stavros's club. But she nodded. "Yeah. It could work."

Stephen nodded. "We'll go with that, then. I'll look for any possible terrorist groups that could be in New York next week, and try to find any recent purchases of NSA incinerators." He turned to Sarah and Chuck. "You two plan a route to get back here. Obviously, you're going to have to avoid traffic cameras and highly populated areas, so look for some smaller roads to travel on."

"Right," they said.

"And Ms. Hansen, after all of that happens, you're most likely going to be reassigned—"

"I would like to remain here and keep an eye on Ellie, if you don't mind," said Carina. "My bosses still think that the Ring is still trying to get into Legend, so she'll likely need to have handlers anyway."

"You're right," said Stephen. "Thank you for looking out for my family."

Carina grinned. "It's no problem at all."

Stephen turned back to Sarah. "And thank you for looking out for Charles."

Sarah nodded.

"Wait, what do we do about Casey?" asked Chuck, smacking his forehead. "I can't believe we forgot about him like the fat kid in gym class." He looked at his father. "I think we should include him in this plan. He's going to be back any day now."

Stephen shook his head. "The less people that know about this, the safer it is."

"Are you serious?" Chuck looked affronted. "We can trust him! I mean, he gave up having a family to protect this country, for the love of God!"

Confused, Sarah raised an eyebrow at Chuck, and he responded with a gesture that let her know that he would explain later.

"And he's working under Beckman," Stephen argued. From the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Carina stifling a chuckle. She knew that it was the perfect opportunity for Carina to joke, "That's what she said!" She turned back to Stephen, who continued, "It's too risky for him to know the plans. In Casey's eyes, Beckman is as loyal as he is."

"Mr. Bartowski, I've worked with Casey for a couple of years now, and I can assure you that if he finds out that Beckman's working for Omega, then—"

"We don't have enough evidence that shows that Beckman is working for Omega," Stephen interrupted. "That's the problem."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but we have—"

"Charles, we already have enough on our plates."

Sarah now saw Chuck's point. It was difficult to argue with his father. Stephen was a man that needed things done his way. But he did have a point. The less people that knew about Chuck faking his death, the better. On the other hand, Casey would prove to be an incredible asset.

"If he decides to stay, and once we gather some proof that Beckman's working for Omega, then that's when we'll let him know," said Stephen with finality in his voice.

**November 20, 2007  
Santa Monica Pier  
5:43 PM PST  
**The rain had cleared. As she and Chuck walked around the nearly empty pier, she breathed in the scent of the salty air mingled with the smell of damp wood. In one hand, she held their shrimp po' boy sandwiches, and with the other, she held onto Chuck's hand. They were walking back to her Porsche when she stopped. She pulled his hand, bringing him close to her, and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"What was that for?" he asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

Sarah shrugged, grinning. "It just feels nice that I have a legit excuse to do that now."

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. Sarah wrapped her arms around him and buried her head into his chest, breathing him in. She felt him squeezing her tightly as he said, "I realized something."

"What's that?" she asked lazily.

"If you weren't there at my dad's today, then he and I would have argued about faking my death, and stuff, for a really long time until I eventually agreed to it," he replied. "Yeah, I'm still going to have to fake die, but at least you stood up for me. It's been awhile since anyone's done that for me."

"Carina stood up for you too," she reminded him. Carina was the one who had come up with the better idea in the first place.

"I know she did," he said. "And I appreciate that too. But you just jumped right in there, and you were like, 'No, thank you! Chuck's not going to do that!' And I don't know…it just felt nice."

"Well, if you thought that I was going to let you hide in some underground tunnel for the rest of your life—"

"It's not that," he said. "The thing is, I'm still a newbie in everyone's eyes. Bryce used to be a spy, Jill used to be Fulcrum, and Carina's still a spy. My dad still treats me like I'm a kid or something, and he rarely listens to me, in case you haven't noticed."

Sarah nodded in agreement.

"The thing is, no one has really stood up for me like you did today," he said with a frown. "If Bryce was there, he would have automatically agreed with my dad. Jill would have just sat there, but afterward, she would have sympathized. And it was obvious that Carina wasn't comfortable speaking until you spoke up. But yeah…you standing up for me means a lot." He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you."

"Well, gee, aren't you the softie?" she teased. Sarah chuckled. "But seriously, Chuck, you should know by now that I've always got your back." Taking a step back, she aimed a punch at his arm.

"Ow-ugh!" cried Chuck, rubbing his arm. "What'd you do that for?"

"That's what you get for forgetting that, and not telling me that you were Osiris sooner," she replied. Leaning in close, she gave Chuck another peck on the lips. "And that's what you get for last night." When she pulled away, Sarah gave him a wink.

"You're kind of crazy, you know that?" he asked, with a grin.

She shrugged. "You like it."

"I do indeed." He took her hand and they started walking toward her Porsche again. "So after we eat, do you wanna go see a movie?"

Sarah's face fell in disappointment. "I have to go to Castle. Damage control from last night, you know?"

Chuck pouted his lips. "Oh, right. God, that Osiris guy seems like an asshole."

"You think?" she asked, playing along. "I personally think he's kind of sexy in a dangerous kind of way. He kind of reminds me of a better dressed Batman."

"Oh, well…" Chuck put on a sad face and released her hand. He pointed behind him with his thumb. "I guess I should just go, then?"

"_Yeah_…don't forget your food." She handed him the paper bag.

"Okay, then." He looked very convincingly hurt, and Sarah had to fight hard to hold down her laughter. "I don't know about you, but it was fun while it lasted."

Sarah brought her hand up to her chin and pretended to think. "It was just okay, I think."

"I see. Well, I had fun, at least."

"That's nice."

He nodded with an overly dramatic look on his face. "Goodbye, then." With that, he turned and began to walk away.

Sarah giggled and jumped on his back. Stumbling a bit, Chuck quickly regained his footing. "Not so fast, young man. I'm not done with you yet."

"Ah! You're so _heavy_!" he cried, laughing. "Have you gained weight? Ow!" She playfully bit his ear. "In case you forgot, I took on like twelve dudes at once last night!"

"That's what she said!"

Chuck sighed. "Wow, I walked right into that one."

"You sure did," she agreed with another giggle. "Do you want me to get down?"

He bounced her up to get a better grip. "It's fine. I mean, even though this is the second night in a row where this ridiculously beautiful woman jumped on top of me, I think I could get used to this." He leaned his head a bit, grinning, and kissed her.

As she let Chuck give her a piggyback ride back to her car, Sarah wondered if she would ever stop grinning. "Hey, Chuck?"

"Hey, Sarah?"

"I'm really happy right now."

"Is 'happy' _code_ for…you know?" he asked playfully. "If so, roger that!"

Laughing, Sarah flicked his ear. Even though it would be nice to have a repeat performance of last night, she still had other things to do. They didn't seem as important, though. "Gosh, you sleep with a guy once, and he suddenly thinks that that's all you want from him," she joked.

"If I'm remembering it correctly, which I probably am, I'm pretty sure you were the one that made the first move."

"Guilty!" she sang. She jumped off of Chuck's back and began digging in her purse for her car keys.

"But seriously," said Chuck. "I'm really happy too."

**November 20, 2007  
Chuck's House  
9:23 PM PST**

As Chuck was finishing up his last set of arm curls, he listened to the rapid pounding coming from the treadmill. Carina was jogging furiously, flushed red, and beads of sweat were pouring down her face. They hadn't spoken too much, she and him. He had apologized that he couldn't reciprocate her feelings, but what more could he do, really? He couldn't control how he felt. Though, he truly believed that if Sarah and Bryce weren't a factor, then, maybe he could have had feelings for her.

But that certainly wasn't the case. He had been in love with Sarah ever since he could remember. When feelings like that lasted for that long, you couldn't just turn it off with the blink of an eye. And Bryce was one of his best friends. He was the guy that broke Chuck out of his shell at Stanford.

The pounding of Carina's feet slowed from the treadmill. Chuck set his weights down, and walked over to the mini-fridge to grab a bottle of water for her. He held the bottle up for her to see, and when she nodded, he threw it to her. She caught it with ease. Taking a long drink, draining nearly half of the bottle, Carina wiped the sweat off her face with a towel. She walked over to a fan to cool herself down.

"That was a brilliant plan you had today," he said, desperate to have something to talk about. She didn't say anything. "And thanks for volunteering to stay and keep an eye on Ellie too. It means a lot."

"Someone in the know has to keep an eye on her," said Carina, still not looking at him. "Plus, she's pretty hot and has a hell of an ass, so…"

Shuddering, Chuck tried to pretend that he didn't hear the last part of her statement. "Well, thank you, anyway."

"Yep."

Heaving a sigh, he grabbed a jump rope that hung from the wall. Before he started, though, Carina finally looked over at him.

"It's hard, Chuck," she said. "Seeing you and Walker together, I mean. I'm trying to be cool, or whatever, but it's hard."

He nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. "I'm sorry," was all he could say. What else was there to say? Should he have given the same speech everyone gives to someone who's been rejected, and tell Carina that she'll find someone better and move on? Would that have helped in this situation? Probably not, he thought. Carina was going to move on eventually. She didn't need to hear him telling her that.

"I'll get over it."

"Can I ask you something?"

She nodded.

"What happened with you and Bryce?" Ever since he had figured out that Carina had feelings for him, Chuck wondered about her and Bryce. He remembered her telling him that she had even considered quitting the Agency to be with Bryce.

"Nothing," she replied. "Just realized that apart from having sex, we don't really do anything else. As much as I love sex, sometimes it's nice to have someone to joke around with, or talk with."

"But what about back when he was a spy? From the stories he told me, it sounded like you guys had a lot of fun together."

"It was fun, but it was because of the missions we sometimes went on that made it fun," she explained. "It wasn't like what you and Walker have. You guys could probably have fun together at a funeral."

Chuck frowned. He seriously doubted that, but he knew what Carina had meant.

"But anyway, I'll probably find someone that I can have fun with _and_ have amazing sex with, right?"

Chuckling, he nodded. "Definitely. But please, leave my sister alone. She's engaged."

Carina laughed. "Well, shit…it's going to take longer than I thought, then." Still laughing, Carina winked. "Anyway, I wish you and Walker the best of luck."

"Thank you."

Giving him a quick, half smile, Carina walked out of his home gym. "Just to let you know, if you hurt Walker, I'll tear your nuts off."

"Noted," said Chuck, grimacing at the thought.

**November 21, 2007  
California Pizza Kitchen—LAX  
5:10 PM PST**

She sat beside Chuck and across from Casey and Carina, watching as the two men ate their pizza. Sarah and Carina had already eaten a few slices, but Chuck and Casey seemed to be determined to finish off the whole pie. She knew that Chuck was most likely pretty hungry, as they had skipped lunch to participate in some, what she liked to call, good times.

"So what happened with Ilsa?" asked Chuck, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Casey stared at Chuck for a moment before he replied. "She's an undercover agent for the French Secret Service."

"No way!"

Casey nodded.

"So are you guys…"

"She's already got another assignment," answered Casey.

"Well, that sucks, big guy. I'm sorry."

Casey just grunted and bit into his slice of pizza.

"What was Federov doing in Chicago, anyway?" asked Sarah. It seemed silly for a Russian mob leader to travel all the way to Chicago for a wedding.

He held up a finger as he chewed. "There's a small processor company over there. He was buying some GPS processors to put in missiles and sell for a profit on the black market."

Carina laughed. "I don't know why all these foreign mob leaders and weapons buyers always insist on traveling to the States to get their shit, you know? They always get caught. Plus, those missions are usually boring as hell."

"There's a reason why the Russians lost the Cold War," said Casey. He looked at Chuck. "Bartowski, forget—"

"Forget I ever heard that," Chuck finished. "Done. By the way, I stocked up on some fresh Hot Pockets for you, big guy. Well, I wouldn't call them fresh, since they're processed to hell, but…"

"Variety pack with the ham and cheese and meatballs?"

"Yep."

"Good man." After Casey had taken the last bite of his pizza, he stood up and looked at Sarah. "Want me to take over watch at Castle?"

Sarah nodded. "Have you been briefed about what happened?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Shame I missed out on all of the fun. How did Beckman react when she heard I went back to Chicago?"

"She didn't care," replied Carina. "Federov's a pretty big deal, so we just told her that you were taking care of it. C'mon, Johnny Boy, I'll drive you to Castle."

They all said their goodbyes, and Sarah and Chuck watched as Carina and Casey drove away.

"That was pretty anticlimactic, don't you think?" asked Chuck. "I was expecting Casey to come back with Ilsa, to be honest."

"I'm sure she and Casey made plans to see each other again," said Sarah. She had noticed that Casey had a certain swagger as he had walked to Carina's car. "I'm pretty sure he got some action too."

"Really? What makes you say that?"

"I can just tell."

Chuck opened Sarah's door for her, and she stepped into his car. After he walked around the front, he sat behind the wheel. Instead of starting his car, Chuck reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit card.

"What's that for?" she asked.

"I've borrowed Bryce's credit card so we could get a hotel room for the night," he replied. She lightheartedly gave him an accusing look, but he laughed it off. "No, not for _that_…well, maybe that. But I was thinking that since Casey's back, he's going to be listening to the bugs, you know? And Omega might have planted bugs at your place. We still have a lot of stuff to plan for New York. Since I'm starting to get paranoid about Omega checking out my records and stuff, I figured that I'd just use Bryce's card to get us a hotel room for the night so we could figure stuff out."

"Wow," she said, impressed by his thinking.

"Are you being sarcastic? I'm being overly paranoid, aren't I?"

"No, you did good, Chuck." She reached over and rubbed his arm. "It's smart thinking."

Looking very proud of himself, he turned on his car and drove away.

**November 21, 2007  
Travelodge  
9:38 PM PST**

"Seriously? She's going at it _again_?" cried Sarah, running a hand through her hair in frustration. They had arrived at the cheap hotel just over three hours ago. In those three hours, Sarah was convinced that the woman staying in the room next to theirs _had_ to be a prostitute. With the constant silhouettes of different men walking past their room and to hers, and the excessively loud moaning, it was a fair assumption. All Sarah wanted to do was get through planning everything with Chuck so that they could spend the next couple of days with not too many worries.

She heard the bedpost pounding, and the woman moaning through the wall. Heaving a sigh, she looked at Chuck. "Why does she have to be so loud?"

"I don't know," he replied with a shrug. "I think you could give her a run for her money, though."

Sarah threw her pen at him. "I'm not _that_ loud!"

"I beg to differ, but if you say so," said Chuck, still laughing.

"I'm not!" she insisted. To her relief, the pounding and moaning stopped. Sarah grabbed a piece of paper and began sketching out a map. "Okay, we really need to focus." She handed Chuck the makeshift map and a satellite image and pointed out the Ritz-Carlton where the shareholders' meeting was going to be held. The plan went like this: Sarah was going to pay off a private pilot to fly to New York a day before the meeting. If she went with Chuck on his plane, and he went missing a couple of days later, Omega would know that she had something to do with his disappearance. For her alibi, Sarah was going to use Jill, and say that she was spotted and Sarah was trailing her.

There was a Tiffany and Co. store about six blocks away from the Ritz-Carlton. Since Carina needed to remain in Los Angeles to sit in for Chuck in some meetings, Casey would accompany him to New York. Chuck would tell Casey that he needed to go to Tiffany's to pick up some presents for Ellie, and that he'd meet up with him in an hour. Across the street from Tiffany's was a storm drain. Chuck would crawl out of his car, down the storm drain, and by then, the NSA incinerator should blow. He would then walk west through the sewers where he would rendezvous with Sarah. Together, would use the same pilot to fly back to Los Angeles where they would hide out at his old house.

"That's the plan in a nutshell," Sarah finished. "We still have to come up with some contingency plans, and all that. But what do you think, so far?"

He nodded. "It's not perfect, but it'll do for now, I guess."

"Far from perfect," she agreed. "There are way too many unseen variables, but you're leaving in four days, and there is a _ton_ of stuff we still have to do. You're talking to Ellie and Devon tomorrow, right?"

Chuck nodded.

"Want me to come with you?"

"That would be great, if it isn't too much trouble," he said appreciatively.

Sarah knew that involving Ellie was hard for Chuck, but she believed that Ellie had the right to know. It was better than her thinking that her brother was dead. The poor woman had been through enough in her life. "It's no trouble at all."

"Thank you," said Chuck with a grin. "Man, I wish we had more time, though. Ow!" he cried when Sarah threw her pen at him again. "What was that for?"

"We would have had more time if you had told me earlier," she said teasingly.

"God, how long are you going to keep that up?" he asked while shaking his head. There was a playful tone to his voice.

"I'm a woman—"

"Really?"

"Shut up," said Sarah, laughing. "But yes. And women are like elephants, Chuck. We never forget." The pounding against the wall had started up again. "And _that_ woman," she said, pointing at the wall, "is like a god damn rabbit! How is she going at it again?"

Chuck looked at the wall, looking amazed as Sarah did. "She has to be a machine. That's like the fourth time she's been at it since we got here!"

"I know!" Sarah cringed as the woman next door began screaming passionately. "I should go over there, knock on her door, and be like, 'Hi, is everything all right in there?' Or maybe I should go and ask for a cup of sugar."

"A cup of sugar, eh?" he mused. "You do know that we're in a motel, right?"

"Yeah, and we have a kitchenette. I could say we're baking cookies."

Chuck looked over at the kitchen and laughed. "That would be pretty funny. Ten bucks says you won't do it, though."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge, Mr. Bartowski?"

"I believe it is, Miss Walker," he said.

Sarah stood up, and brushed her hair back. "I'll do it!"

"Good!"

When she reached the door, about to turn the knob, she burst into a fit of laughter at the absurd realization of what she was about to do. "Oh my God! Should I really?" she cried, bouncing on her heels. She was laughing so hard that tears began to build in her eyes, and her ribs started to get sore. Her face was flushed red as she doubled over, still bouncing giddily on her heels.

Chuck was laughing just as hard as she was. He leaned against the wall for support, holding a finger up, trying to catch his breath. But as soon as his laughter stopped, it started up again. Since he couldn't speak, he just reached into his back pocket and pulled his wallet out. Taking large, deep breaths, he pulled out a ten dollar bill and held it out in front of him.

"Okay, I'm gonna do it!" she announced, still trying to keep her laughter down. She inhaled deeply, and released the air. Her face was still bright red, but at least the laughter had died down.

"I need to see this!" Chuck cried, stumbling to his feet.

He followed Sarah out of their room, but he just stood at their door, leaving Sarah to fend for herself. She didn't know what had possessed her to become so…_childish_, but it didn't matter. Even if this was immature, she was still having fun. Before knocking on their neighbor's door, she looked over and winked at Chuck.

She knocked on the door, loudly, three times. "Hey! Is everything okay in there? Is anybody hurt?"

No answer.

"Hello?" she called louder. She quickly bit down on her lip to keep from giggling.

"Everything's fine! Do you not see the 'Do Not Disturb' sign?" an irritated sounding man called.

"Sorry, I just heard screaming, and I thought—"

"EVERYTHING'S FINE!"

Knowing that if she looked over at Chuck, she would burst into laughter once more, Sarah pushed on. "Well, that's good to hear! In that case, you don't happen to have any sugar, would you? I'm baking cookies—"

Chuck doubled over in laughter as the woman called out. "WE'RE IN A FUCKING MOTEL! Why the hell would we have sugar?"

Sarah brought her hand up to her mouth and bit down. Once she was sure that she wasn't going to laugh, she called, "There are kitchens here, so I thought—"

"You thought wrong! Leave us the fuck alone!"

"Oh, okay! Sorry to bother you!" She quickly ran into Chuck's arms, and he pulled her back into their room. They fell on the floor, both laughing so hard that Sarah thought that their ribs might crack.

Once they stopped laughing, Sarah looked at Chuck who was looking back at her with a loving look that sobered her up. "You're amazing," he said.

"You're not so bad yourself."

As they continued to laugh, both clutching to each other, Sarah realized something. They were making up for the time that they had lost. The years they spent separated from each other. She leaned over and stole a kiss from him. It was a game she liked, stealing kisses from Chuck. What made her really love it, though, was that she no longer had to hide behind a mask to steal them.

**November 26, 2007  
Unknown, NEW YORK**

She couldn't move. Her body felt weighed down, as if she had just woken up from a night of heavy drinking. A sharp pain filled her entire head. Her eyes were covered by a rough cloth. The only sound, apart from her heavy, shaky breathing, was the dripping water which she assumed was hitting the ground. Omega must have captured her.

A creaking door opened, but Sarah couldn't see who was coming.

"Hello, Agent Walker," said a familiar voice. It had to be Beckman, she thought. "You failed to bring Osiris in. You let him get away."

Sarah didn't bother to argue back. Omega must have seen the tapes. They must have seen what happened. But they wouldn't forgive her, even though losing Osiris had appeared not be her fault. To them, Sarah had tried, but she had failed.

"I've ordered a few of my agents to bring Mr. Bartowski here," said Beckman.

"I swear to God, if any of you hurt Chuck, I'll personally kill each and every one of you!" Sarah spat in fury.

This was not how the plan was supposed to go.

She heard the door opening again, and another pair of footsteps.

"General, you are relieved." Sarah definitely recognized this person's voice. She knew that it belonged to Mary Bartowski.

"Thank you, Mary," said Beckman.

Sarah felt a rough tug around her eyes, and suddenly, she was blinded by bright lights. She had assumed that she was in a dark, abandoned storage closet of some sort, and was surprised to see that she was wrong. The room was lit by bright florescent lights. To her left was a stainless steel cart, holding many different knives. She was strapped to a metal chair.

Mary began to walk toward her. The older woman stared viciously at her. Before she knew it, Sarah felt a terrible pain across her cheek. When she looked back up at Mary, she was rubbing her knuckles.

"That's for my son," she said, raising her fist once more.

This was definitely not how the plan was supposed to go, Sarah thought again as she braced herself for another impact.

She felt the punch. The chair, in which she sat, was in danger of falling back. Mary grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her forward. Sarah ignored the pain; she had much more pressing issues. How was she going to escape? She didn't know where she was, her arms and legs were chained to the chair.

"Look at me," Mary growled. Sarah turned away from the wall and looked at the incensed woman. "All of this is happening because of what you couldn't do."

As Sarah was about to retort, she saw Mary flicking her eyes to her left. Sarah immediately caught on to the bobby pin in Mary's hair. She blinked her eyes to tell her that she understood.

Mary leaned closer. "You had your chance to bring us Osiris, and he got away."

Sarah moved quickly. She thrust her head forward, and grabbed the bobby pin out of Mary's hair, hoping that it looked like an attempt to bite the elder woman. Feigning surprise, Mary took a step back, allowing Sarah to slip the pin under her tongue. Just as she did so, Mary landed another punch, this time to Sarah's stomach.

"You don't have the right to fight back," said Mary. She wrapped her hand around Sarah's throat. "My son is going to die, and there's nothing either of us can do about it." As she finished the statement, Mary mouthed, "Grand Central Station," so quickly that if Sarah blinked she would have missed it. "It was your job to keep Chuck safe." Again Mary mouthed, "Two hours."

"I didn't know Osiris had a partner," Sarah grumbled. Saliva began to build in her mouth, and she spit off to the side. "How in the hell was I supposed to know that? Give me more time! I could bring him and his partner in."

"My orders are to kill you and Chuck. There's nothing I could do," said Mary with a shake of her head.

"It's not December yet!"

But Mary ignored her. Sarah watched as the woman turned and walked out of the room. Beckman stood at the door and gave Sarah a knowing wink before she followed after Mary. Was she in on this plan too?

Sarah didn't have much time to ponder. She had her way of getting out of the chains, but she still had no idea how to escape this room. Hoping that Mary had an out for her, Sarah began to cough. She bent her head down and on her last, loud cough, she caught the bobby pin in her left hand. Immediately, she set out to pick the locks.

By the time the locks on her wrists were picked, the skin had rubbed off. Ignoring the constant stinging, she began to pick the locks around her ankles. The last cuff fell, and the room turned pitch black.

Frantically, she looked around the room, but wasn't able to see an inch in front of her. Suddenly, she saw a red light above the door blinking rhythmically.

Three quick blinks. Was that an S, she wondered. One quick blink and a prolonged blink. That was definitely an A…

It was Morse Code, she realized.

_Sarah, follow the lights_, it finally finished. With a loud clank, the metallic door opened a crack. She reached over to the table, grabbed a blade, and kicked open the door. Although it was dark, Sarah saw the silhouettes of two guards, caught by surprise. Immediately, she aimed a quick blow to one of the guards' neck, and just as quickly, she turned and slammed her palm into the others nose. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into the wall. Then she grabbed a handful of his hair, and slammed his face as hard as she could against it. She turned swiftly and aimed a kick for the first guard's temple, knocking him out.

She knelt down, feeling around to see if any of the guards had a gun. As she moved her hands around, she found what she was looking for. Straightening up, she grabbed the pistol from the guard. Her eyes scanned around the hallway, looking for any sign of a blinking light. She saw one to her left and began to run.

The light led to a staircase where she saw beams coming from flashlights. As quietly and as quickly as she could, Sarah climbed up the steps. When she came closer to the beams, she paused, waiting for them to approach her. Kneeling behind the banister, as she watched a beam get closer, Sarah reached out, grabbed the guard's wrist and pulled him down. She struck him in the face as hard as she could with the barrel of her gun, and aimed another strike for the back of the guard's head. Suddenly, the lights began to scatter about.

Sarah rose from behind the banister and looked up in surprise as a beam of light hit her face. Without hesitation, she threw the knife that she had grabbed earlier where she knew the guard's leg would be. As soon as the blade had hit the target, the guard came tumbling down the stairs. Again, Sarah clocked him in the back of the head with the pistol to knock him unconscious. She pulled the knife from the man's thigh.

Sarah ran up the staircase, running into more guards. She shot twice, kneecapping two of them. Adjusting her pistol, so that she held it by the barrel, Sarah swung her arm as the gun made contact with the third guard's face. Ignoring the groans of pain, Sarah looked around to see another red, blinking light right above the door a flight of stairs above her. She burst through the door, holding the gun out in front of her, ready to fire in case there were more guards. But she realized that she had walked out onto a fire-escape. Waiting for her was Mary.

"John Casey is transporting Chuck to Grand Central," she said without preamble. She handed Sarah a couple of magazines. "He's not with us. Beckman ordered an NSA team to transport Chuck here. Casey thinks that it's for security purposes."

"Where am I?" asked Sarah as she placed the extra magazines and the pistol in her waistband. She threw the knife aside.

"Five miles northeast from Grand Central," replied Mary. "Remember, the agents picking Chuck up are NSA. Unless you want the entire government after you two, do not kill any agents."

Sarah nodded as her mind drifted to the motor home waiting for her and Chuck with supplies at the Poconos. "I know where to take Chuck after I get him."

"I don't want to know. Omega has to know that I planned this," said Mary. "I'll take care of everything here. You just make sure Chuck is safe."

"Right." Sarah climbed over the bar, but before she started down, she looked at Mary. "Thank you."

"Go!"

She quickly climbed down to the ground. As she was about to run, Sarah noticed a duffle bag on the ground. She knelt down, and opened it in a hurry. Inside, there was a black wig, a wool coat, two phones, and some lock picks. She tied her hair in a bun, and slid on the wig and coat. She placed the lock picks into the coat pockets, and she ran off. At the first car she saw, Sarah quickly picked the lock and hot-wired it.

**November 26, 2007  
Grand Central Station  
3:49 PM PST**

She had ditched the car a block away, and now, she waited for any sign of Chuck or Casey. There was a flood of people, perhaps going home for the holidays. Hundreds of different faces walked in and out of the station, but Sarah had her eyes out for only two. She knew that any of these faces could be a NSA agent, willing to transport Chuck to Omega's makeshift base at the abandoned building she had been at earlier.

Out of fear of looking suspicious, Sarah stood in line at a hotdog stand, trying to appear to be waiting for some food. But then she saw them about a hundred yards away. Casey was about to lead Chuck through the west entrance. There was no way she could reach them in time.

Sarah pushed through the line, and to the vendor. She shoved the elderly man aside, ignoring his protest. Finding what she was looking for, Sarah grabbed a small propane bottle, and tossed it inside the steamer.

She grabbed the vendor's arm. "Get back!" she yelled at the crowd as she pulled the vendor away. As the crowd, looking scandalized, backed away from the cart, Sarah pushed the vendor aside. A second later, the cart exploded. The explosion wasn't big enough to fatally injure anyone, it was more like a loud explosion of steam. She looked toward the west entrance to see Casey looking in her direction, where people were screaming.

Sarah watched as Casey turned to Chuck, most likely to tell him to stay put, and he began walking toward the cart. His hands reached behind him, most likely for his badge and his gun. Sarah was right as Casey began to yell, "NSA! Get back!"

She pulled the gun from her waistband just as Casey approached. He noticed her a second too late, right when she swung the butt of her gun at him. It collided with the back of Casey's neck, and the large man fell to the ground. "Sorry, Casey," she mumbled as she ran toward Chuck.

Before she reached him, however, two men grabbed Chuck from behind. She saw one of them flashing his badge at Chuck, and they pulled him away.

"Damn it," she grumbled, making her way to follow them inside the station.

When she stepped in, she was lost in a sea of people. Her eyes danced around, looking for any sign of Chuck. It was proving to be quite difficult as Sarah counted over a dozen men that stood at around six feet two inches with dark brown hair and wearing business suits. As she scanned the terminal again, she saw him.

Chuck was struggling against the two agents, demanding to know what was going on and where they were taking him. Once Sarah saw Chuck's fists clenching, she immediately pulled her gun from her waistband, pointed up at the ceiling and fired three shots.

Immediately, a chorus of frightened screams and gasps sounded from the hundreds, maybe thousands, of people in the terminal. Some of them scattered to the exits, while others immediately fell to the ground, covering their heads. Sarah blended in with a crowd of people that were heading toward an exit, and her eyes scanned around to see if there were more agents. She counted about seven men, all wearing dark suits and sunglasses, looking around the terminal. Such a NSA trait, she thought. Of course, the NSA wouldn't have sent just two agents. They would have sent in a handful. They were thorough.

Sarah pushed through the crowd, heading toward the two agents closest to Chuck. They shoved him to the ground, one of the agents knelt beside him with his gun in his hand, surveying the terminal for any sign of the person that had opened fire. Sarah joined in a group of people who were running toward the north exit where Chuck and the two agents were.

As she ran with the group, one hand dug through her coat pocket and pulled out one of the phones that Mary had left while the other shoved the gun back in her waistband. When she got close enough to touch Chuck, she tripped over her feet, and fell hard against the ground. She and Chuck briefly made eye-contact. He looked confused and lost, but she gave him a pointed look; "Don't say a word to me," she tried to say through her eyes. He seemed to understand, and she quickly shoved the untraceable cell phone into one of his hands.

She was pulled up roughly by an agent with dark blonde hair. "Go!" he cried, shoving her forward.

Sarah scrambled back into the crowd, as she pulled the other phone out from her pocket. She quickly pressed the 'Send' button, and with her free hand, she clutched onto the handle of her gun. While the dial tone rang, Sarah slipped out from the crowd and slid behind a ticket desk. She listened to the agents all yelling at the crowd, telling them to leave the station, and Chuck finally answered.

"Hello?" he asked. His voice was muffled.

Sarah peeked behind the desk to see that the agent was still holding Chuck down to protect him.

"Do not say my name," she ordered. "I need you to listen to me carefully, okay?"

The agent looked down at Chuck, and Sarah heard him asking Chuck who he was talking to. "My sister," he lied. "It's important."

The agent rolled his eyes.

"Chuck," said Sarah, pulling the gun from her waistband. "On the count of three, run out the north exit. Head up Park Avenue, and run into the Metlife building. Tell me that you're busy if you understand."

"Uh…Ellie, I'm kind of busy right now. It's definitely not a good time."

"One…two…three!" Sarah rose, pointed her gun at the ceiling again, and fired another three rounds. Immediately, the seven agents pointed their weapons at her. She dove to the side, behind a thick, wooden panel and felt the dull impacts as the bullets crashed around her.

"Get Bartowski!" she heard someone yell.

She picked up the phone, and noticed a Bluetooth device that was connected to it. She pulled it off the phone, and shoved the ear-bud in her ear. "Chuck, can you hear me?"

"Yeah."

Sarah crawled along the ticketing desks. "The phone has a Bluetooth device connected to it. Use it!"

She heard a shuffling noise for a brief moment, and he spoke. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," she replied, firing her last four shots, deliberately missing the agents, but shooting close enough to them that they had to take cover. Sarah ran out from behind the counter as fast as she could. The agents immediately opened fire on her, but she slid behind a soda machine. The bullets narrowly missed her. "Are you out of the station yet?"

"I'm coming back to help."

"Absolutely not!" she cried, loading a fresh magazine.

"But—"

"No!" she ordered. "I've been in worse situations. I've got this. Just head toward the Metlife building, and hang out in the lobby for a bit."

"But—"

Sarah couldn't hear the rest of his words. The same agent who had been crouched over Chuck appeared from the side of the soda machine, and she ducked under his pistol whip. She drove her knee into the man's midsection, and he doubled over. Reaching inside his suit pocket, Sarah pulled out a syringe that she knew most NSA agents carried with them. It was filled with a strong sedative. She uncapped the needle, and drove it into the agent's neck.

Before he fell, Sarah gathered her strength and held him up against her to use as a shield. The other agents froze as Sarah pointed her gun at them. Without warning, she fired her gun blindly around them once more, sending them scattering out of the way. She dropped the sedated agent, and ran. She flew past the west exit, heading for the north.

Suddenly, she stopped when she heard a loud grunt from her ear, and behind her. When she turned around, she saw Chuck tackling an agent to the ground. The agent's gun slid across the linoleum floor.

"Chuck, no!" she cried, running toward him.

But he ignored her, as he kicked himself off the ground. Another agent approached him, and Chuck roundhouse kicked him in the temple. Sarah reached Chuck, grabbing his arm.

"These guys are NSA," she spat. She fired two shots near a couple of agents who were about to round up on them again. They jumped out of the way. Sarah quickly dug the syringe from the fallen agent's coat and stuck it in his neck, hoping that he wouldn't remember Chuck knocking him out. "You're a civilian that just attacked a government agent!"

"So?" Chuck asked, as Sarah pulled him away, still firing shots to keep the agents from following them. "The guy had you in his sights! He was going to shoot you!"

She kept herself from arguing back as they ran out. Ignoring the group of bystanders in front of the doors, watching to see what was going on, she and Chuck ran past them and toward the Metlife building. She knew that the agents were going to be chasing after them.

"What's going on? Why did Casey bring me here?" asked Chuck, panting loudly.

"Omega somehow got wind that I was coming to New York," she replied, turning into a parking garage. "They captured me the moment I landed here. Beckman ordered Casey to take you to that extraction team to bring you to where I was, so that they could kill you."

"Oh, God…How did you escape?"

"Your mom helped me break out," she replied, stopping at the first sedan she saw. As she dug the lock picks that Mary had left her out of her pocket, a series of gunshots narrowly missed her and Chuck. She grabbed him. "Damn it! Go!"

She pushed Chuck ahead of her, and fired until her magazine was empty. They ran up to the second level, and not even bothering to pick the lock, Sarah smashed the window of the closest sedan. She unlocked the doors, and turned to where she knew the guards would be following. "Quick! Get in!" She placed her last magazine into her gun.

Chuck slid across the hood of the car. As he was about to step into the passenger seat, he looked at her. "You might want to be careful when you get inside. There's a lot of glass. You don't want the shards getting in your—Ah!"

While Chuck was walking to the door, he stepped behind her. Sarah heard a gun echoing a few yards away as Chuck's body crashed against the car. He had been shot. "Chuck!" She felt the world crashing down around her.

Not caring about the circumstances, Sarah aimed her gun at the agent who had shot Chuck, and shot him in the thigh. Then she quickly slid across the hood of the car, hoping to God that Chuck wasn't dead.

Chuck was leaning his face against the car, breathing heavily. Blood was pouring from his shoulder, but luckily, the shot wasn't fatal. But there was no exit wound. The bullet was still lodged in there.

"Chuck," she breathed as she knelt down beside him.

"I'm—I'm okay." His voice was shaking. "Just help me get into the car."

Shoving her fear aside, Sarah gingerly grabbed the unwounded arm and helped Chuck get into the car.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for reading! Let me tell ya, writing a happy Sarah is fun! And yes, my goal for this chapter was to make Sarah as girly as possible. I hope I succeeded! Let me know what you guys think!

Chapter three of **Confessions of a Nymphomaniac Spy** will be posted in a couple of days. If you guys are interested about Carina's and Sarah's history, then you're going to want to read that next chapter!


End file.
